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"  "JUN  16  1936 


JOSEPH  THOMAS, 

THE  PILGRIM: 

TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 

A  COMPEND  OF  THE  LIFE, 

HUVELS    AND    GOSPEL    LABOURS 
OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


LEBANON,  OHIO: 

PRINTED  AT  THE  OFFICE  OF  THE 

WESTERN  STAS, 

1829, 


LIFE,  TRAVELS,  &t. 


JOSEPH  THOMAS. 

I  Joseph  Thomas,  was  born  in  North  Caro- 
lina, Orange  county,  March  the  7th,  1791. 
My  parents  were  natives  of  Pennsylvania,  who3 
in  an  early  period  of  their  lives,  soon  after  be- 
ing wedded  together,  emigrated  to  the  place 
where  I  was  born.  Being  among  the  first  of  the 
qettlers  who  penetrated  the  uncultivated  wilds 
of  that  part  of  the  country,  they  soon  found 
that  frugality  and  industry  were  indispensibie 
to  their  subsistence ;  consequently  became  m=> 
nured  to  the  common  hardships  of  a  laboring 
life,  by  which  they  shortly  obtained  a  comfort- 
able  competency.  Not  many  years  rolled  a- 
way,  till  they  found  themselves  possessed  of  a. 
:onsiderable  share  of  honest  wealth,  surround- 
2d  with  several  children — sons  and  daughters, 
The  Revolutionary  war  came  on,  which  spread 
levastation  and  death  over  that  section  orT 
country .  The  British,  commanded  by  Lord 
Sundered  and  devoured  the 


remains  of  my  father's  property,  excepting  hi: 
land. 

After  this  war,  my  parents,  by  their  industry,  i 
repaired  their  wasted  fortune,  and  obtained  the:; 
second  time,  a  sufficient  living.  But  alas!  the' 
day  of  prosperity  soon  passed  away,  and  wat 
succeeded  by  the  storms  of  adversity,  affliction 
and  distress.  The  property  they  had  accumu-  ( 
Iated,  by  a  change  of  times,  with  a  course  oh 
intemperance,  on  my  father's  part,  was  spent.) 
scattered  and  entirely  wasted!  By  this  time, 
they  had  nine  living  children,  seven  sons  and) 
two  daughters,  the  most  of  whom  were  grown 
men  and  women,  but  myself,  being  the  young- 
est child. 

The  first  seven  years  of  my  life,  I  had  the 
guardian  care  of  a  dear  father  and  the  affec- 
tionate attention  of  a  fond  mother,  in  which 
time  I  was  taught  to  read,  write  and  cypher. 
In  the  year  1798,  hard  necessity  compelled  that 
I  should  be  separated  from  my  parents,  and 
from  my  once  peaceful  home !  My  abode  was 
now  appointed  me  in  a  strange,  inhospitable 
and  cruel  family !  It  was  stipulated,  that,  while 
here,  I  should  go  to  school ;  but  my  ungenerous 
host  evaded  this,  and  engrossed  my  time  en- 
owd  purposes.     At  this  unfriendly 


place,  I  dwelt  almost  two  years,  and  every  leis- 
ure hour,  I  employed  myself  in  reading  the 
books  my  father  had  given  me,  among  which, 
my  favorites  were  the  Economy  of  Human  Life  i 
and  the  New  Testament. 

At  this  place  I  was  cruelly  treated,  suffering 
the  extremes  of  hunger  and  cold,  <fec.  &c.  Here 
I  often  bewailed  my  parents'  misfortunes,  and 
the  loss  of  my  former  home,  and  learned  by  hard 
necessity,  the  distressing  condition  of  many 
helpless  children,  who  are  constrained  from 
their  parents,  to  dwell  among  unfeeling  stran- 
gers. During  this  period  I  thought  about  dy- 
ing, and  much  about  eternity,  which,  with  my 
natural  disposition,  caused  me  to  be  more  sol- 
emn and  melancholy,  than  boys  at  that  age 
commonly  are. 

When  I  was  about  nine  years  old,  one  of  my 
brothers  (who  was  then  a  married  man)  living 
in  Grayson  county,  Virginia,  came  and  took 
me  away  from  this  cruel  and  inhospitable 
place,  and  I  cheerfully  wTent  home  with  him, 
about  150  miles  from  the  place  of  my  nativity. 
Being  now,  more  than  before,  among  strangers, 
I  continued  to  feel  melancholy  and  as  an  or- 
phan cast  upon  the  mercy  of  a  friendless  world. 
I  had  no  one  to  look  to  for  protection,  advice, 
A  2 


e 


or  for  sustenance  but  my  brother.  He  was 
kind  to  me  and  soon  engaged  me  to  a  school, 
near  his  abode,  to  which  I  went  some  months 
and  made  a  pleasing  proficiency  in  reading, 
writing  and  arithmetic. 

In  December  1801,  when  I  was  nearly  ten 
years  old,  I  was  taken  with  the  White  Swelling 
in  my  left  knee,  and  was  soon  unable  to  walk, 
or  to  stand  upon  my  feet  during  the  space  of 
eighteen  months.  In  this  time  I  felt  the  most 
excrutiating  pain  that  humanity  is  capable  of 
supporting.  It  was  long  anticipated  from  day 
to  day,  by  myself  and  those  who  saw  me,  that 
my  agonies  and  affliction,  would  soon  termin- 
ate in  death.  Once,  while  lying  helpless  on  my 
bed,  ray  brother  being  absent,  my  sister-in-law 
found  occasion  to  leave  home.  Previous  to 
her  going,  she  carried  in  some  dry  fuel  and  laid 
it  in  the  chimney  place,  between  the  fire  and 
chimney  side.  In  a  short  time  after  her  depar- 
ture, the  fuel  caught  fire  and  conveyed  it  to  the 
v/ood  of  which  the  chimney  was  composed,  and 
there  soon  kindled  into  a  furious  blaze,  roaring 
up  the  chimney  and  gathering  into  the  logs  on 
that  part  of  the  house.  Lying  with  my  face 
towards  the  fire,  I  apprehended  the  danger: 
but  was  utterly  unable  to  move  out  of  the  place1 


My  thoughts  and  feelings  on  this  occasion  were 
inexpressible,  for  death,  to  all  appearance,  was 
inevitable.  1  tried,  but  tried  in  vain  to  escape 
from  my  bed,  and  found  no  alternative  but  to 
resign  myself  to  the  mercy  of  God,  and  to  the 
devouring  element.  The  fire  increased  until 
one  side  of  the  chimney  was  burnt  through  and 
the  end  logs  of  the  house  considerably  kindled. 
But  what  was  astonishing  and  pleasing  to  me 
by  the  time  I  thought  the  blaze  would  be  kind- 
ling in  the  roof,  it  descended  the  chimney  and 
presently  subsided.  And  yet  the  more  was  I 
convinced  of  the  interposition  of  divine  good- 
ness, when  in  a  few  hours  the  tire  became  entire- 
ty extinguished !  This  I  thought  was  the  'Lord's 
doings  and  marvellous  in  my  eyes.'  From  this 
singular  deliverance,  (as  1  esteemed  it)  I  re- 
ceived an  impression,  that  God  would  preserve 
me,  and  not  let  me  die  with  my  present  com- 
plaint. 

While  in  this  affliction,  the  misdemeanors 
and  sins  of  my  past  days  came  into  review,  and 
I  felt  the  compunctions  of  a  guilty  conscience. 
I  sincerely  regretted  my  sins  and  promised  a 
better  course  of  life,  if  I  should  be  spared.  I 
found  comfort  in  the  gospel  promises  and  be-^ 
lieved  I  was  prepared  to  die. 


8 


In  the  month  ot  March  1803,  after  being  con- 
fined near  eighteen  months  to  my  bed,  in  which 
time  one  of  the  bones  of  my  leg  was  taken  out, 
with  the  loss  of  many  small  pieces,  I  was  again 
able  to  stand  on  my  feet,  and  to  walk  by  the  aid 
of  crutches.  Not  long  after  this  till  I  could  walk 
without  their  assistance !  I  now  viewed  myself 
as  a  miracle  of  God's  almighty  goodness — as  a 
stranger  upon  the  stage  of  action,  and  as  one 
Who  had  just  come  from  the  regions  of  the  grave 
and  shadow  ofdeath!! 

iVot  long  after  being  restored  to  my  feet^  till 
I  lost  sight  of  the  goodness  of  God,  forgot  the 
solemn  promises  I  had  made  to  him,  and  again 
be^an  to  wander  in  the  forbidden  paths  of 
youthful  folly  and  sin.  In  a  few  weeks  I  was 
taken  with  a  complaint  similar  to  that  with 
which  I  was  so  severely  afflicted  in  my  leg,  in 
my  opposite  thigh  bone,  and  was  soon  unable 
to  walk.  In  this  attack,  I  was  again  severely 
afflicted,  and  for  some  months  confined  to  my 
bed,  and  it  was  now  thought  I  never  would 
walk  any  more.  I  again  renewed  my  promise! 
and  besought  the  Lord  to  have  mercy  on  me. 
In  a  few  months,  beyond  the  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations, I  was  enabled,  the  second  time,  to 
rise  and  walk,  and  was  looked  upon  &3  a  won- 


uer,  while  I  was  seen  running  and  playing  with 
my  former  associates ! 

Early  in  the  year  1803,  I  was  removed  to 
Montgomery  (now  Giles)  county,  Virginia,  to 
take  my  residence  with  a  brother,  who  at  that 
time,  kept  Batchelor's  Hall.  He  was  then  a 
frolicksome  young  man,  and  the  people,  old 
and  young  about  that  place,  generally  were 
uncivil  and  wicked.  I  was,  of  course,  insensi- 
bly drawn  froin  the  paths  of  morality  and  re- 
ligion, and  too  often  constrained  to  imitate 
seme  of  the  practices  predominant  around  me 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  same  year,  I  was  re- 
moved to  neighbor  Andrew  Johnston's,  on  New 
river,  in  the  same  county,  as  a  boarder  to  go  to 
school.  In  this  man  I  found  a  friend,  and  the 
first  moral  preceptor  I  had  met  with.  I  have 
since  always  remembered  him  with  gratitude 
and  affection,  for  the  moral  and  wholesome  in" 
structions  which  he  gave  me,  during  my  stay 
with  him.  My  teacher  also  became  partial 
and  particularly  attentive  to  me.  1  took  the 
best  advantage,  and  made  the  wisest  improve- 
ment from  the  instructions  of  these  men,  that  I 
could.  Here  I  dwelt  about  one  year,  in  which 
time  I  found  myself  far  advanced  in  arithmetic, 
considcrablv  so  in  mathematics  geo 
A3 


10 


When  my  time  expired  here,  Mr.  Johnston 
would  receive  nothing  for  my  boarding,  nor 
the  teacher  for  my  tuition.  During  this  term, 
I  had  many  serious  reflections  and  often  refus- 
ed to  play  at  school,  from  the  solemn  impres- 
sions, sometimes  made  on  my  mind.  I  had  a 
Ivew  Testament  which  I  carried  with  me, 
which,  in  all  my  leisure  hours,  I  read  with  great 
pleasure,  and  became  particularly  fond  of 
those  places  that  spake  of  the  bessed  Jesus,  the 
Saviour  of  the  world,  and  of  the  miracles  and 
wonderful  works  which  he  wrought  among  men. 
My  mind  was  often  seriously  exercised,  and  I 
frequently  dreamed  of  attending  the  sermons 
and  the  travels  of  the  Saviour,  where  thousands 
were  congregated.  I  often  imagined,  in  my 
sleeping  hours,  that  I  was  preaching  the  gospel 
to  hundreds  and  thousands,  in  different  parts  of 
the  world ! ! 

In  November  1304, 1  left  my  benefactor,  my 
teacher  and  my  youthful  acquaintances,  and 
went  to  Grayson  county  again,  and  in  the 
neighborhood  where  I  had  been  so  much  afflict- 
ed. I  hired  myself  to  my  brother's  father-in- 
law,  the  term  of  one  year,  for  ninety  dollars. 
One  third  of  this  time  I  taught  school,  and  the 
balance  I  worked  upon  the    farm.     Religion 


n 

was  scarcely  named  by  any  person  abont  here 
in  those  days.  Vice  and  irreligion  prevailed. 
I  heard  one  sermon  in  this  time,  which  was  the 
first  religious  meeting  I  had  been  at  since  I  left 
Carolina.  This  discourse  awakened  and  en* 
couraged  me  to  pray.  Lorenzo  Dow  came 
through  the  country  about  this  time,  and  caus- 
ed the  people  to  talk  something  about  religion. 
I  read  his  chain,  which  had  a  serious  and  last- 
ing impression  on  my  mind.  I  felt  condemned 
before  God,  Guilt  hung  heavy  on  my  soul, 
and  I  again  more  frequently  resorted  to  prayer. 
But  I  felt  no  relief  from  the  convictions  and  an- 
guish of  a  broken  spirit. 

In  October  1805,  my  engagement  being  ful- 
filled with  the  man  I  lived  with,  I  received  my 
wages,  and  went  on  to  Carolina,  to  see  my  mo- 
ther and  other  relations  I  had  living  there.  My 
aged  mother  rejoiced  to  see  me,  after  the  ab- 
sence of  five  years,  and  that  God  had  preserv- 
ed me  through  all  the  afflictions  and  necessities 
that  had  befallen  me.  There  was  a  great  revi- 
val of  religion  about  here  at  this  time.  Preach- 
ing and  prayer  meetings  were  frequent.  I  at- 
tended some  of  them,  and  felt  pleased  to  hear 
the  name  of  God  praised,  though  I  could  not 
experimentally  join  the  glad  song.    After  a  few 


tt 


weeks  I  left  ray  mother  and  other  weeping 
friends,  and  returned  to  Grayson  county  in 
Virginia  again.  On  my  way,  m}r  heart  was  al- 
most drowned  with  sorrow.  I  felt  that  I  had 
no  home,  and  that  I  Avas  destitute  of  the  salva- 
tion of  my  soul,  which  I  desired  above  any  thing 
on  earth. 

In  Grayson  I  hired  with  my  brother,  with 
whom  I  had  formerly  lived,  the  term  of  three 
months.  Here  my  distress  of  mind  increased, 
and  I  was  soon  convinced  that  my  soul  was  in 
too  much  danger  of  being  lost,  if  I  continued 
long  in  so  wicked  a  place.  1  resolved  that 
when  nvy  time  was  out,  I  would  leave  this  part 
of  the  country. 

In  March  1800,  I  went  to  Carolina  again, 
the  place  of  my  nativity,  and  commenced  liv- 
ing with  my  brother  James  and  my  mother, 
who  lived  together.  I  now  went  frequently  to 
meeting,  and  read  much  in  the  Scriptures.  My 
former  convictions  became  more  pungent  and 
my  sins  rose  more  conspicuous  to  my  view* 
This  was  in  the  time  of  the  celebrated  revival, 
when  it  was  no  strange  thing  to  hear  many,  old 
and  young,  profess  religion,  and  to  see  them 
en/a^e  in  the  unaccountable  exercises  of  show- 


13 


ting,  dancing,  hollowing,  jumping,  laughing, 
&c.  &c. 

There  was  a  great  Union  meeting,  (by  some 
called  Camp  meeting)  appointed  to  be  holden 
near  where  I  lived,  in  October  1806.  I  looked 
forward  to  this  meeting  with  pleasing  expecta- 
tions, and  strongly  hoped  that  at  it  I  might 
iind  the  pearl  of  great  price,  the  salvation  of 
my  soul.  At  this  meeting,  preachers  and  peo- 
ple of  different  denominations  met.  On  the 
first  day  of  meeting,  I  went  early  to  the  place, 
where,  by  seeing  the  numerous  tents  and  wag- 
gons already  arranged  on  the  ground,  and  the 
crowds  of  people  pressing  from  every  direction, 
my  mind  was  solemnized  and  penitential  tears 
^tole  from  my  eyes. 

The  first  sermon  was  delivered  by  a  travel- 
ling man,  then  immediately  from  Georgia,  who 
professed  to  belong  to  no  party,  but  to  the 
church  of  Christ  in  general.  His  text  and 
sermon  were  concerning  Naaman,  the  leper, 
who  was  commanded  to  dip  himself  seven 
times  in  the  river  Jordan. 

In  his  description  of  Naaman,  I  thought 
some  person  had  told  him  my  feelings  and  my 
character.  I  thought  the  most  he  said  was 
aimed  at,  and  intended  for  me.     Near  the  con- 


14 


elusion  of  his  sermon,  many  had  fallen  to  the 
earth  around  me,  crying  for  mercy,  and  I  fell 
among  them.  I  sent  for  the  preacher  to  come 
and  pray  for  me.  Many  prayers  were  offered 
for  me,  but  alas,  my  heart  was  too  unbelieving 
to  receive  the  blessing  I  had  so  long  sought, 
and  without  which,  I  was  now  sensible  I  would 
be  miserable  and  utterly  lost. 

The  exercises  of  my  mind  during  this  meet- 
ing, were  various  and  sometimes  inexpressible. 
At  times  I  fe\t  some  consolation,  and  almost 
concluded  that  I  was  redeemed  from  my  sins, 
by  the  blood  of  Christ.  At  other  times,  my 
heart  would  so  fill  with  unbelief,  that  I  would 
almost  conclude  there  was  bo  mercy  nor  sal- 
vation for  such  a  wretch  as  I. 

As  the  following  occurrence,  which  took 
place  during  this  meeting,  was  so  very  singu- 
lar,, and  made  an  impression  which  is  not  yet 
eradicated  from  my  mind,  I  will  here  relate  it. 
Being  tired  and  sleep}-,  one  night  I  lay  down 
in  a  tent,  and  while  I  slept,  I  imagined  I  saw  a 
very  aged  and  grave  man  stand  at  the  door  of 
the  tent,  and  heard  him  call  to  me ;  I  answer- 
ed (methought)  and  asked  him  who  he  was? 
He  said  "I  am  Isaiah  the  Prophet."  Upon 
which  he  said  to  me,  "rise  up  and  I  will  give 


15 


you  something  which  come  from  heaven.'3  I 
obeyed.  He  then  shewed  me  a  piece  of  wood, 
near  the  size  and  shape  of  a  small  man,  and  it 
seemed  deeply  stained  all  over  with  blood,  and 
said,  you  have  a  long  journey  to  travel  which 
you  must  shortly  commence,  and  you  must 
carry  this  all  the  way  with  you.  He  then  held 
a  small  loaf  of  bread  in  his  hand,  and  said, 
*;you  must  take  this  loaf,  and  when  you  get 
weary  and  faint,  eat  of  it.  This  loaf  will  last 
you  about  forty-eight  years  and  six  months, 
about  which  time,  for  the  sake  of  what  you  car- 
ry, strangers  shall  kill  you."  He  then  hand- 
ed them  to  me,  and  told  me  to  receive  them  as 
the  gifts  of  God.  I  took  the  wood  and  stood  it 
by  me,  and  received  the  bread  in  my  hand.  I 
ate  a  small  portion  of  it,  and  immediately  I  felt 
it  strengthen,  cheer  and  animate  me  in  every 
part,  and  I  became  so  happy  I  could  not  for- 
bear leaping,  praising  and  thanking  God.  My 
agitation  awoke  me.  I  felt  happ}-,  and  thought 
for  a  moment,  that  God  had  sent  a  heavenly 
visitant  to  feed  me  upon  the  bread  of  life,  and 
had  converted  my  soul  while  I  slept.  But  my 
comfort  shortly  fled,  unbelief  again  beclouded 
my  mind,  and  I  went  to  the  stand  where  the 
preachers  were,  and  requested  them  to  pray  for 


16 


mc.  But  I  could  not  feel  my  soul  fully  reliev- 
ed from  doubts  and  sorrow. 

On  the  eighth  day  from  the  commencement 
of  this  meeting,  it  drew  to  a  close.  During  this 
time,  the  love  of  God  was  manifested  in  the 
union  of  his  children  of  different  professions,  in 
the  conversion  of  many  souls,  and  in  the  con- 
viction of  many  others  who  left  the  ground 
seeking  the  Lord.  I  left  the  ground  solemn 
and  mournful,  not  fully  believing  I  had  yet  ob- 
tained the  forgiveness  of  my  sins..  After  this 
meeting,  I  continued  to  seek  the  Saviour,  by 
constantly  attending  meetings,  by  private 
praj-er,  and  by  an  attentive  reading  of  the 
Scriptures.  I  was  for  some  time  tossed  to  and 
fro  in  my  mind,  sometimes  almost  sunk  in  dis- 
pair,  burdened  with  grief  and  sorrow,  and  at 
other  times  felt  glad  that  the  Lord  had  showed 
me  so  much  mercy.  For  some  months  the  ex- 
ercises of  my  mind,  were  so  conflicting  and  dis- 
tressing, that  my  flesh  reduced  almost  to  a  skel- 
eton, and  I  could  enjoy  but  little  comfort  in 
an}r  thing  on  earth. 

On  the  Tth  of  May  1307,  earl}-  in  the  morn- 
ing, having  spent  the  night  previous,  in  groans 
and  tears,  I  arose  and  sought  a  private  place 
ft)  a  distant  wood;  where  I  often  had  reported, 


17 


determining,  if  there  were  yet  mercy  with  God 
lor  me,  I  would  wrestle  with  him  in  prayer,  till 
I  would  find  deliverance  from  the  intolerable 
burden  that  pressed  my  sorrowful  soul.  I  found 
the  place  I  sought,  and  sometime  after  sun  rise, 
I  found  the  Lord  Jesus. — The  love  of  God  was 
shed  abroad  in  my  heart — I  found  the  blessing 
I  had  so  long  sought,  and  for  which  I  had  shed 
to  many  tears,  and  uttered  so  many  groans. 
O!  the  glory,  the  transporting  joys  that  filled 
Bay  soul !  Had  I  the  wings  of  an  eagle,  and  the 
voice  of  a  trumpet,  I  would  have  declared  to 
the  whole  world,  the  wonders  God  had  wrought 
on  my  soul.  The  joys  of  that  day  were  unut» 
terable  and  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Immediately  when  I  experienced  this  change, 
a  manifestation  of  equal  plainness  was  made 
to  my  mind,  that  I  should  follow  Jesus  in  the 
Ordinance  of  baptism,  by  immersion,  as  a  pub- 
lic testimony  of  my  faith  in  him,  and  of  my 
hope  in  the  resurrection  of  the  body  to  eternal 
life.  It  was  also  made  plain  to  me  at  the  same 
time,  that  I  should  have  to  preach  the  gospel, 
and  not  only  to  those  who  are  nigh,  hut  also  to 
those  afar  off.  Some  days  I  enjoyed  uninter- 
rupted peace  and  great  tranquillity  of  soul. 

Not  long  till  my  mind  became  exercised  on 


18 


the  subject  of  connecting  myself  to  some  reli- 
gious denomination.  To  be  suited  in  this  mat- 
ter, I  was  involved  in  deep  concern  and  delib- 
eration, as  1  found  it  ditncult  to  determine  for 
the  best.  It  was  now  evidently  my  duty, 
when  I  presented  myself  as  a  petitioner  to  a 
church  for  membership,  I  should  also  offer  my- 
self a  candidate  for  the  ministry  of  the  gospel. 
I  had  been  made  acquainted  with  the  principal 
doctrines,  and  with  the  church  government  of 
the  Presbyterian,  the  Methodists,  the  Calvin- 
istic  and  Freewill  Baptists.  The  Presbyterian 
or  the  Baptist  church  would  have  suited  me  in 
point  of  their  government;  but  their  doctrine, 
to  my  mind,  so  evidently  opposed  the  doctrine 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  whole  course  of  my 
experience,  that  I  thought  it  unnecessary  to  of- 
fer myself  to  either.  The  most  of  the  impor- 
tant points  of  the  Methodist  doctrine,  seemed 
to  accord  with  my  faith  ;  but  their  government 
appeared  to  me,  to  be  so  evidently  contrary  to 
that  of  the  primitive  church  of  Christ,  and  such 
as  I  thought  would  abridge  that  liberty  which 
the  Lord  had  just  given  me,  I  could  not,  in  con- 
science, offer  myself  to  them.  I  conversed  with 
a  Freewill  Baptist  preacher,  concerning  his 
doctrine,  government,  kc.  I  shortly  found  soma 


19 


things  in  the  way,  and  such  that  prevented  my 
joining  in  membership  with  him.  I  then  re- 
quested him  to  baptise  me  by  immersion,  but  he 
would  not,  unless  I  would  join  his  faith  and 
order.  This  was  a  source  of  grief  to  my  soul, 
as  I  already  began  to  discover  this  difficulty, 
that  I  would  either  have  to  sacrifice  my  con- 
science and  m}r  faith,  or,  as  I  thought,  stand 
alone  and  be  opposed  by  the  surrounding  sects. 

About  this  time  I  heard  of  a  people  who  call- 
ed themselves  Christians,  and  who  professed  to 
take  the  Scriptures  for  their  rule  of  faith  and 
practice.  I  was  informed  where  one  of  their 
preachers  lived. — I  went  to  see  him,  to  get  in- 
formation on  this  subject,  which  at  this  time 
gave  me  great  concern. 

He  informed  me  that  they,  as  a  people,  re- 
garded the  Scriptures  as  the  only  rule  of  faitli 
and  practice ;  that  they  held  open  and  free  com- 
munion with  all  christians ;  that  they  owned 
no  name  but  Christian — that  there  were  no 
Popes,  Bishops,  nor  Presiding  Elders  amongst 
them ;  and  that  they  were  all  alike  amenable  to 
each  other,  and  had  an  equal  voice  in  all  mat- 
ters that  concerned  the  church.  I  rejoiced  to 
hear  of  such  a  people,  for  this  seemed  to  be  the 
plan  most  favorable  to  christian  liberty,  and 


20 


the  most  similar  to  that  church  established  un- 
der the  Apostles.  I  then  told  him  of  the  exer* 
cises  of  my  mind  concerning  the  ministry.  He 
encouraged  me,  and  informed  me  where  I 
might  see  a  number  of  those  preachers  at  a 
meeting,  to  beholden  in  Raleigh,  N.  Carolina, 
about  fifty  miles  distant,  to  whom  he  thought 
I  had  better  present  myself  as  a  candidate  for 
the  ministry.  Shortly  after  thi9,  [presented  my* 
self  to  the  church,  of  which  this  man  (B.  Rainey) 
was  pastor,  for  membership  amongst  them.  They 
received  me  as  a  member,  and  gave  me  license  as 
anexhorter.  I  now  began  to  close  up  my  little 
worldly  concerns,  and  prepare  for  an  itinerant 
life  in  the  gospel.  1  exercised  in  exhortation  fre- 
quently through  the  neighborhood,  hut  my  efforts 
were  weak  and  much  ridiculed  by  many  who  heard 
toe.  Many  excuses  and  difficulties  I  brought  for- 
ward to  exonerate  myself  from  the  arduous  and 
important  task  that  imposed  on  me.  But  nothing 
less  than  a  compliance,  promised  any  relief  to  my 
troubled  mind.  My  mother,  relations,  and  the 
most  of  those  who  conversed  on  the  subject,  rig- 
idly opposed  the  undertaking.  And  had  1  not 
been  strongly  convinced,  that  the  spirit  of  the 
Lord  inspired  and  moved  me  to  the  work,  I  would 
not  have  assumed  a  calling  for  which  I  thought 
myself  so  little  qualified.    I  counted  the  cost-^I 


a 


determined  to  obey  God,  rather  than  be  intimidat- 
ed by  man,  or  overcome  by  inferior  obstacles. 

I  now  surrendered  all  pretensions  to  the  advan- 
tages of  this  world,  and  to  the  gratification  of  car- 
nal appetites.  I  bade  farewell  to  ease,  to  the 
hopes  of  honor,  to  the  popularity,  and  to  the 
friendship  of  a  gain-saying  generation,  and  freely 
sacrificed  them  all  upon  the  cross  of  Christ,  re- 
solving to  follow  the  footsteps  of  Jesus,  whom  I 
now  took  to  be  my  only  friend.  I  considered  my- 
self starting  on  a  mission,  the  most  important  ever 
engaged  in  by  man,  and  on  a  pursuit  which  was 
to  occupy  my  constant  and  assiduous  attention, 
during  the  remainder  of  my  days. 

The  19th  day  of  October  1807,  when  I  was  s!xi 
teen  years  and  about  nine  months  old,  I  bade  fare- 
well to  my  mother,  my  relations,  and  to  a  sneer- 
ing world,  and  started  for  the  meeting  in  Raleigh, 
and  thence  to  people  and  lands  unknown  In  go- 
ing six  miles  1  was  upon  strange  ground  !  I  travel- 
led fourteen  miles,  and  tarried  all  night  with  an 
old  christian  preacher,  Elder  Debruler,  who  I 
soon  learned  was  going  to  the  same  meeting. 
Next  morning  we  went  on  about  thirty  miles  into 
the  neighborhood  of  Raleigh,  and  held  meeting. 
Here  I  was  called  upon  to  speak.  The  cross  was 
great — I  spake  but  little  and  closed  with  mortified 
and    discouraged    feelings.    I  soon  retired  and 


22 


spent  the  most  of  the  afternoon  in  prayer,  medp 
tation  and  reading. 

Friday  22d,  we  went  on  to  Raleigh,  where  I  was 
introduced  to  a  family  with  whom  I  was  received 
during1  the  meeting.  At  12  o'clock  preaching 
commenced.  Here  were  James  O'Kelly,  and  Will- 
iam Guiry,  the  most  eminent  and  popular  of  that 
church  in  the  Southern  regions.  During  this 
meeting,  I  opened  my  mind  to  J.  O'Kelly  on  the 
subject  of  baptism,  and  desired  him  to  immerse 
me.  But  in  explaining  the  nature  and  use  of  bap- 
tism to  me,  he  made  it  mean  pouring. — I  believed 
from  his  age,  experience  and  abilities  of  mind,  he 
must  be  right,  and  on  the  Sabbath  day  of  the  meet- 
ing, I  was  baptised  (as  we  then  called  it)  in  that 
way.  I  was  received  by  the  preachers,  as  one  li- 
censed to  make  trial  of  my  ministerial  abilities. 
Here  were  four  candidates,  young  men,  besides 
myself,  presented  themselves  at  this  meeting  for 
the  ministry.  All  were  received,  and  each  was 
appointed  to  travel  and  labor  with  an  Rider,  till 
the  next  union  meeting,  which  was  to  convene  in 
six  months. 

I  was  appointed  to  travel  with  J.  Warren,  on 
James'  river  and  some  of  the  lower  counties  of 
Virginia  Before  I  left  Raleigh  I  was  ridiculed 
and  insulted  by  a  Methodist  preacher,  whom  I 
took  to  be  a  Deist,  until  I  was  informed  otherwise. 
By  this  I  found,  that  not  only  the  non-professor 


23 


but  sectarians,  whose  policy  and  craft  I  did  not 
promote,  would  oppose  and  endeavor  to  hinder 
my  progress  in  the  cause  I  had  espoused. 

From  this  meeting  I  started  in  company  with 
my  intended  preceptor  and  benefactor,  and  two 
other  preachers ;  and  we  travelled  together  four 
days.  We  held  several  meetings,  and  I  being 
-called  on  to  officiate,  either  if  I  refused  or  com- 
plied, I  felt  confounded  and  ashamed,  and  was 
goon  convinced  that  the  preachers  were  of  opinion 
my  inability  would  disparage  and  injure  the  cause 
I  wished  to  support.  I  now  was  upwards  of  two 
hundred  miles  from  home,  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
part  of  the  world,  having  no  friend  to  assist,  en- 
courage or  strengthen  me  in  the  glorious  cause  I 
had  espoused. 

Friday,  29th  October,  I  and  the  man  I  was  to 
travel  with,  parted  from  the  other  preachers,  and 
fell  upon  a  long  chain  of  appointments,  which  had 
been  previously  given  out  for  him.  I  soon  found 
my  companion  was  an  irritable,  illiterate  man; 
and  so  little  acquainted  with  human  nature,  that 
he  knew  not  how  to  make  proper  allowances  for 
inexperience  and  youth.  Believing  I  could  not 
perform  as  an  exceptable  preacher,  he  became  tir- 
;dof  me,  and  frequently  advised  me  to  give  up  the 
task  and  go  home'  He  often  tried  to  offend  and 
mortify  me  in  private,  and  in  company.  One  day 
while  speaking,  I  observed  I  considered  myself  a« 


24 


a  lamb  sent  out  among  wolves ,  &c.  At  this  a  man 
in  the  congregation  took  offence — rose  up  and  com* 
manded  me  to  hush,  and  with  an  angry  counte- 
nance, coming  forward ,  seemed  determined ,  as  he 
said,  if  I  did  not  hush  to  pull  me  down.  Some  of 
the  people  interfered,  and  the  congregation  were 
generally  disturbed.  The  preacher  told  me, 
he  thought  this  was  an  evidence  that  I  was  doing 
harm  and  ought  to  quit.  But  I  told  him  I  took  this 
as  a  trial  for  my  faith,  and  not  as  an  evidence  that  I 
was  not  called  to  the  ministry. 

We  travelled  on  through  Mecklinburgh,  Lunen* 
burgh,  Prince  George,  Prince  Edward,  Queen 
Ann,  Henrico,  Chesterfield  and  Amelia  counties, 
in  Virginia,  in  which  time  the  trials,  temptation! 
and  difficulties  of  my  mind,  were  inexpressible. 
By  this  time.  I  plainly  discovered  the  preacher 
felt  little  concern  for  my  interest,  or  solicitude  for 
my  success.  Hearing  of  another  Christian  preach* 
er,  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Reeves,  and  he  being 
recommended  as  a  more  suitable  man  for  me  to 
travel  with,  I  resolved,  though  he  was  upwards  of 
an  hundred  miles  from  me,  1  would  go  and  see 
him. 

In  December  I  bid  adieu  to  the  old  preacher, 
who  had  been  a  source  of  grief  to  me,  and  started 
oi  by  myself  through  a  strange  part  of  country, 
and  m  six  days  I  found  T.  Reeves  in  Surry  coun- 
ty, Va.    I  introduced  myself  to  him,  a»  one  oftb^ 


25 

weakest  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  our  Lord 
I  soon  found  him  of  open,  free  and  liberal 
mind — kind  and  affectionate  in  his  disposition. 
He  received  me  to  travel  with  him,  and  prom- 
ised to  lend  me  all  the  aid  and  support  he  could 
afford. 

We  went  on,  and  for  many  days  held  meet- 
ings once,  sometimes  twice  every  day.  My 
timidity,  which  had  been  a  great  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  my  speaking,  now  began  to  wear 
off,  and  I  felt  a  little  more  liberty,  but  was  yet 
so  weak  and  unpopular,  that  the  most  of  the 
(brethren  advised  brother  Reeves  to  dismiss  and 
;end  me  home.  But  he  thought  I  ought  to 
make  a  longer  trial,  and  frequently  exhorted 
me  to  application,  diligence  and  perseverance, 
md  if  I  would  be  faithful,  he  had  no  doubt  but 
.hat  God  would  make  me  an  instrument  of 
mich  good. 

About  Christmas,  we  were  some  miles  below 
Norfolk,  and  went  to  brother  Rice  Haggard's 

christian  preacher.  I  found  him  to  be  of 
trong  intellect,  and  of  profound  piety.  He 
xhorted  me  to  be  faithful,  and  the  Lord  would 
aake  me  useful.  I  loved  him  and  received 
rithjoy  his  counsels. 

B 


tfG 


We  turned  our  course  and  went  up  th< 
country  again— passing  through  Norfolk,  Ports 
mouth,  jSuffolk,  the  Isle  of  Wight  county,  Sur 
ry  and  Southampton.  Here  we  came  to  ok 
brother  B.  Barrett's,  (a  christian  preacher.' 
Here  the  work  of  the  Lord  revived.  Brothe 
Barrett  gave  me  good  counsel,  and  by  his  af 
fectionate  conversation,  I  was  much  consoled 
strengthened  and  encouraged.  Our  travel 
were  bounded  in  form  of  a  circuit,  which  w< 
performed  in  four  or  five  weeks.  Every  rount 
turned  up  new  trials,  temptations  and  scenes 
The  many  lonesome  and  disconsolate  feelings 
that  revolved  in  my  mind,  could  be  but  faint 
]y  painted  by  the  most  vivid  imagination. 

About  the  fourth  time,  in  going  round  ou: 
appointments,  it  was  frequently  observed  to  mi 
companion,  what  proficiency,  what  unparal 
leled  improvement  I  had  made !  I  now  begai 
to  find  the  attention  and  kindness  of  the  people 
drawn  towards  me,  which  taught  me  something 
more  of  human  nature.  I  now  learned,  whei 
a  person  could  not  help  himself,  and  was  i\ 
essential  need  of  a  friend,  he  seldom  found  one 
and  when  he  could  do  without  friends,  he  gen 
erally  could  find  them  plenty  under  tha 
camef 


±1 


In  April  1803,  brother  Reeves  left  me,  and 
Started  for  Tennessee.  I  continued  on  the  cir- 
cuit, till  the  last  of  May,  and  saw  that  the 
Lord  had  revived  his  work  in  many  places^  and 
souls  were  converted. 

In  the  last  of  May,  I  left  this  part  of  the 
country,  and  directed  my  way  for  my  native 
place  in  N.  Carolina.  During  this  time,  I  had 
expended  the  amount  of  the  funds  I  had  start* 
ed  with,  which  were  $40 ;  but  at  the  time  I 
was  starting  for  Carolina,  a  man  put  five  dol* 
j  lars  in  my  hand,  which  I  regarded  as  an  in- 
stance of  God's  goodness  to  me.  In  June,  I 
preached  to  a  large  congregation,  on  the  old 
j  camp  ground,  where  I  had  received  my  con^ 
victions.  Many  who  came  to  laugh  at  me,  as 
they  had  done  before,were  constrained  to  weep, 
and  many  of  the  professors  rejoiced  and  gave 
praise  to  God.  I  held  several  meetings  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  saw  the  tears  of  the  mour- 
ner, and  heard  the  shouts  of  happy  christians. 

In  the  latter  part  of  June,  I  bade  adieu  to  my 
mother  and  brother,  whose  eyes  were  now  fill- 
sd  with  tears,  and  started  to  travel  on  a  route- 
assigned  me,  in  the  higher  parts  of  Virginia* 
U  five  days  I  reached  my  circuit,  at  Major 
Ward'e,  on  Staunton  river,  Campbell  county, . 


28 


Virginia.  In  this  journey  I  was,  while  preach- 
ing, insulted  with  scurnllous  language,  at  Pitt- 
sylvania Court  House,  and  at  Ward's  springs. 
From  Major  Ward's,  I  went  to  New  London. 
Thence  on  Sunday,  I  preached  at  a  place  call- 
ed the  Tabernacle.  Here  a  Methodist  preach- 
er encountered  me.  He  said,  he  could  not  see 
for  his  part,  how  any  person  could  be  so  blind- 
ed, as  to  pretend  to  go  about  the  country 
preaching,  and  be  connected  with  no  society  ^ 
and  bound  by  no  discipline!  I  replied,  that  I 
belonged  formally  to  a  people,  who  professed  as 
much  religion  as  he  seemed  to  have,  and  that  I 
had  that  book,  the  Bible,  for  my  discipline ; 
whence  all  creed-makers,  pretended  to  derive 
their  authority  for  their  disciplines,  and  if 
theirs  were  good,  of  course  mine  must  be  much 
better. 

My  circuit  included  Campbell,  Bedford, 
Amherst,  Nelson,  Buckingham,  Prince  Ed- 
ward and  Charlotte  counties.  From  Taberna- 
cle, I  went  on  and  crossed  James1  and  Tie  riv- 
ers, and  came  in  among  the  hills  and  spurs  of 
the  south  side  of  the  Blue  Ridge  mountain* 
Here  many  of  the  people  appeared  to  be  rude, 
uncultivated,  and  apparently  hardened  in  sins. 
But  the  Lord  gave  my  words  access  to  some  of 


24 


their  hearts — some  professed  religion  under  my 
ministration,  in  those  regions.  The  country  is 
truly  picturesque  in  the  summer  season,  exhi- 
biting in  rich  variety,  the  features  of  sublime 
an  i  awful  solitude,  and  the  fascinating:  charinS 
of  rural  scenery.  At  Stony  point  meeting 
house,  ["held  meeting:,  where  a  revival  com- 
menc°d  ;  several  souls  were  professedly  brought 
to  the  knowV^e  of  the  truth,  and  added  to 
thechu'eh,  qui  many  of  the  brethren  were 
comforted  and  built  up  in  the  faith  of  the  gos- 
pel. 

I  now  obtained  the  name  of  the  boy  preacher^ 
and  from  motive?  of  curiosity,  &cmy  con  :re  :a- 
tions  were  generally  lar^e,  and  it  pleased  the 
Lord  frequently  to  attend  my  discourses  with 
the  energy  of  his  holy  spirit,  to  many  of  their 
hearts.  In  Charlotte  county,  a  Methodist 
preacher  undertook  to  dve  me  a  little  drubbing", 
in  public,  by  telling;  the  congregation  I  was  one 
cf  the  tail  end  of  the  Methodist — an  Q%'Kellyite% 
and  the  people  should  be  aware  of  such  rene- 
gadoes,  &c.  I  observed,  the  Methodists  as  a 
body,  had  not  only  one  heads  but  three,  which 
made  it  a  monster;  but  that  I  had  not  until 
then,  considered  udod  its  haying  a  tail,  but 
according  to  him  it  had  one.    But  I  thought  he. 


so 

was  mistaken  about  its  having  dropt  from  the 
body,  for  it  had  just  struck  me,  that  as  every 
member  of  the  body  is  included  between  the 
head  and  the  tail,  the  Bishops  must  be  the  headT 
and  the  class  leaders  the  tail  of  the  Methodist 
church ;  and  that  it  yet  cleaves  to  the  body, 
and  as  related  to  me  I  truly  never  made  any 
part  of  this  apparatus.  And  as  respected  being 
an  O'Kellyite,  I  was  no  more  one,  than  he  was 
an  Asburyite,  and  I  could  not  see  why  the  one 
should  not  be  as  respectable  as  the  other. 

Not  long  after  this  a  Baptist  preacher  of 
great  celebrity,  and  rhetorical  powers,  tried 
his  skill  in  a  congregation  against  me,  t^nd  af- 
ter ridiculing  my  rotten  Armenian,  Mushroom 
doctrine,  observed  to  me,  I  ought  to  go  home, 
and  stay  there  till  I  had  read  and  studied  Dr. 
GilPs  Body  of  Divinity.  I  informed  him  that 
I  had  read  Dr.  Gill,  and  had  found  the  dry 
bones  and  skeleton  of  a  body,  but  could  find  no 
meat  nor  nourishment  on  it,  to  feed  my  soul. 

In  Charlotte  county,  on  Big  Fallen,  I  preach- 
ed in  a  neighborhood  where  a  revival  com- 
menced. Several  professed  faith  in  Christ,  and 
many  were  awakened  to  a  sense  of  their  sins. 
Some  were  taken  with  the  exercise  of  thejerksy 
which  was  a  new  and  strange  thing  to  th# 


SI 


people,  and  the  first  instances  of  the  kind  I 
had  seen  in  Virginia. 

Thence  I  preached  in  Campbell  Court  House., 
and  again  at  Major  Ward's.  In  this  route,  I 
included  upwards  of  two  hundred  miles,  and 
attended  about  thirty-five  preaching  places. 

In  October,  1  left  the  South,  and  went  over 
en  the  north   side  of  the    Blue    Ridge.     On 
i  Craig's  creek,  I  preached  several  times  to  weep 
.  ing  congregations.      Thence  I  went    over  a 
high  mountain,  and  preached  several  times  on 
•  the  sources  of  Sinking  creek,  where  I  constitu* 
;  ted  a  church,  under  the  Christian  name.    Here 
at  old  brother   Peck's,  a   Methodist  preacher 
opposed  me  in  public,  and  declared   that  the 
Scripture  was  not  a  sufficient  rule  to  govern 
the  church,  as  I  had  said,  unless  it  had  eyes  to 
'  see  and  a  mouth  to  speak,  kc.     The  people  be* 
came  offended  at  his  spleen,  and  abruptly  dis* 
.  missed  themselves.     Thence  I  made  for  Ra- 
I  leigh,  in  N.  Carolina,  to  a  Union  meeting.    In 
my  journey,  I  passed  through  Fmcastle,  Liber- 
ty, New  London,  Major  Ward's,   Pittsylvania 
Court  House,  Danville,  Casewell  Court  House, 
Hilteborough,  and  arrived  in  Raleigh  on  the 
second  day  of  the  meeting.     On  my  way,  in 
Hie  solitary  pine  deserts,  lying  between  Pittsylr 


32 


vania  Court  House  and  Danville,  I  lo^t  my 
w  y,  and  was  under  the  necessity  ot  tying  my 
horse  to  a  bush,  and  I  took  my  lodgings  by  the 
side  of  an  old  tree,  for  the  night.  This  was  a 
time  and  a  place  for  poetical  fancy,  and  chris- 
tian meditation! 

In  Pi.rilei^h,I  met  with  many  preachers,  coU 
lected  from  different  quarters,  and  all  seemed 
united  in  the  glorious  cause  of  christian  liberty, 
and  in  the  free  communion  of  the  children  of 
God.  The  meeting  lasted  four  days,  in  which 
time,  several  were  converted  and  added  to  the 
church. 

On  Tuesday,  I  left  Raleigh,  and  went  on  in 
the  company  of  B.  Rainey,  for  Haw  river,  my 
native  place,  and  tarried  all  night  with  the  pi" 
ou3  James  O'Kelly.  This  man  as  a  christian, 
as  an  or  itor,  as  a  reformer,  as  the  father  of  the 
Christian  Society,  (so  called)  and  as  a  man  of 
strong  mental  abilities,  needs  not  the  eulogi- 
umsandthe  panegyric  of  my  pen,  to  recom- 
mend him.  This  was  an  instructive  and  happy 
night  to  me. 

In  two  days  from  this  place,  I  arrived  at  my 
mother's.  I  rreached  several  times  to  atten- 
tive and  weeping  assemblies,  among  my  old 
acquaintances.    I  then,  by  request*  met  with 


ss 


cue  Presbyterians  at  their  sacrimental  occa- 
sion?, at  Ilawfiekls,  Enon,  Cross  roads,  &c* 
At  these  meetings  the  great  work  of  the  Lord 
was  marvellous  among  the  people.  Here  I 
found  the  Presbyterians  were  as  noisy  and  seem- 
ed to  have  as  much  religion,  as  any  people  I 
had  seen. 

In  November,  I  started  westwardly,  and 
preached  at  Big  Buffalo,  Guilford  Court  house, 
&c,  and  on  the  Little  Yadkin ;  at  widow  Da- 
vid's, &c.  I  crossed  the  Blue  Ridge  at  Flour 
GaD.  Here  I  had  the  most  extensive  and  de- 
lightful prospect  of  creation,  I  ever  had  before. 
Around  me  the  tremendous  spurs  of  the  moun- 
tain, projected  their  lofty  heads,  and  with  frow- 
ning majesty  seemed  to  overlook  the  clouds  I 
Thence  I  could  see  the  distant  hills  and  little 
mountains  thrown,  as  it  were,  by  a  careless 
hand,  yet  in  beautious  order,  over  distant  lands 
below!!  Numerous  farms,  with  many  rural 
and  picturesque  scenes,  rose  into  review,  wa- 
tered by  purling  rills  and  gurgling  brooks,  while 
distant  Yadkin  rolled  along.  Yonder  stands 
Arrarat,  or  the  Pilate  mountain,  about  forty 
miles  distant,  rising  like  an  awful  pyramid, 
crowned  as  with  a  turret,  of  three  hundred  feet 
in  perpendicular  height,  on  the  lofty  moun- 
B  2 


34 


tain's  top !  I  went  on  to  my  brother  Moses'  on 
Chesnut  creek,  in  Grayson  county,  Va.  with 
whom  I  lived  in  the  days  of  my  affliction.  I 
now  commenced  preaching  to  those  who  had 
seen  me  while  I  lay  tortured,  as  many  thought, 
on  the  gloomy  borders  of  death !  Religion  was 
yet  little  known  among  these  people.  It  plea- 
sed the  Lord  to  awaken  a  number  to  a  sense  of 
their  need  of  a  Saviour,  while  I  taught  them  the 
way  of  life.  From  this  time,  a  revival  began  in 
those  regions. 

In  December,  I  bade  adieu  to  my  brother 
and  family,  and  went  into  Wythe  county,  and 
preached  at  Newel's  lead  works,  on  New  river. 
Thence  I  turned  my  course  to  the  route,  I  had 
been  travelling  the  summer  preceding.  The 
weather  was  now  excessively  cold,  and  I  was 
but  thinly  clad.  I  crossed  Little  and  Big  Reed 
Islands,  bold  and  rapid  mountain  streams.  In 
the  latter,  my  horse  stumbled  and  wet  me.  My 
clothes  soon  became  frozen,  and  to  keep  my  . 
feet  from  freezing,  I  drew  my  stockings,  and 
walked  with  dry  leaves  in  my  shoes.  The 
■country  was  thinly  settled,  and  I  had  no  op- 
portunity of  eating  or  warming,  till  some  time 
in  the  night.  In  three  days  I  came  aerain  to 
xme  of  my  old  homes,  in  Bedford  county,  and 


35 

fclt  *lad  and  thankful  to  God  for  his  mercies,, 
and  for  his  preserving  care  towards  me. 

I  now  went  on  preachinsr,  on  the  route  I  had' 
travelled  the  summer  previous,  with  unremit- 
ted zeal,  exposures  of  body,  fatiguing  labor-, 
and  with  an  intense  application  to  reading  anci 
*tudy. 

Some  time  in  January  1809,  while  travel* 
ling,  night  overtook  me  north  of  New  London, 
It  was  very  dark  and  rainy.  The  top  of  a 
tree  fell  in  the  road  so  near  me,  that  a  limb 
struck  me  and  so  badly  wounded  me,  that  I 
had  to  sit  some  time  by  the  road  side  before  I 
was  able  to  ride.  About  9  o'clock,  I  came  to 
brother  Wright's,  and  felt  thankful  to  God  that 
I  was  alive.  My  reflections  this  night,  on  the 
goodness  of  God,  were  comforting  to  my  soul. 
In  some  places  the  work  of  the  Lord  prospered, 
and  I  felt  encouraged  and  thankful  that  I  was 
made  an  instrument  of  doing  goGd  to  the  soula 
of  men. 

January  28th,  I  had  to  cross  James'  river  to 
reach  my  appointment.  The  ford,  I  found  was 
difficult  and  dangerous,  as  there  was  much  ice 
in  the  way.  In  places  the  ice  would  bear  my 
horse,  and  in  some  places  he  would  break  thro* 
the  ice,    In  the  6plashing  of  the  water,  I  be? 


36 


came  mostly  wet  and  my  clothes  were  soon 
stiffly  frozen.  Sometimes  the  ice  forced  me  out 
of  the  ford,  into  almost  swimming  water,  and 
I  nearly  despaired  of  reaching  the  shore !  How- 
ever, I  arrived  on  the  bank,  and  found  my  path 
to  ascend  sidelong  a  tremendous  hill,  mostly 
glazed  over  with  solid  ice !  I  pulled  off  my  shoes 
and  dew  myself  along  by  bushes,  thinking 
and  fearing  every  moment  my  horse  and  my- 
self would  fall  from  the  awful  verge,  into  the 
river  below!  But  thanks  to  my  great  Preser- 
ver, I  ascended  safely,  but  through  great  peril, 
while  my  bones  ached  with  cold,  and  my 
clothes  rattled  with  ice.  I  went  to  my  ap- 
pointment, being  almost  frozen,  and  preached 
to  a  people  who  gladly  heard  the  word. 

I  now  found  that  persecution  and  popularity 
had  united  to  toss  my  name  abroad.  I  found 
them  to  equiponderate  in  the  scale  of  my  re- 
flection, to  my  advantage.  So  that  by  the  one, 
I  was  not  abjectly  depressed,  nor  by  the  other, 
elevated  in  my  own  estimation,  beyond  the 
moderation  of  the  christian  character.  My 
constant  prayer  was,  to  be  delivered  from  the 
pride  of  the  human  heart.  O !  (thought  I) 
when  shall  these  towerin?  notions,  these  world- 
Ay  thoughts,  this  love  of  applause^  this  vexation 


67 

at  persecution  ceaie.  O!  when  shall  l  be  rc- 
ligned  to  all  circumstance?,  and  be  contented 
in  the  varying  situations  of  this  fluctuating 
gcence  of  life!  O,  when  shall  I  gain  that  holy 
courage,  that  divine,  undaunted  disposition  of 
soul,  to  stand  firm  and  unshaken — that  heaven- 
ly zeal  to  persevere,  when  derision,  persecution 
and  slander,  with  their  thousand  tongues,  burst 
forth  in  united  clamors,  to  sink  me  down  in 
shame.  O!  for  that  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price; 
th  it  I  may  feel  humble  and  thankful  in  prospe- 
rity, and  patiently  resigned  in  adversity  and 
affliction. 

In  March  I  crossed  the  mountains,  and  went 
again  to  Craig's  creek,  Bottetourt  county, 
through  much  snow,  ice  and  cold,  and  piercing 
w7ind.  In  this  visit  I  found  that  the  Methodists 
who  had  formerly  manifested  friendship  to  me, 
had  turned  to  be  my  enemies  and  persecutors, 
and  were  now  as  cold  and  barren  to  me,  as  the 
mountains  they  inhabited.  They  debarred  me 
from  preaching  in  their  public  and  private 
houses,  but  their  opposition  only  seemed  to  in- 
crease my  congregations,  and  open  my  way  a- 
mons:  the  people.  While  preaching  here,  the 
Lord  touched  the  hearts  of  some  of  the  wicked 


38 


and  brought  them  to  the  knowledge  of  trie 
truth.  Truly  did  the  wilderness  turn  to  a  fruit- 
ful field,  and  the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose* 
Here  I  had  an  additional  proof  of  the  changea- 
ble and  uncertain  nature  of  Sectarian  friend- 
ship. I  was  taught  never  to  trust  in  Sectari- 
an love,  further  than  I  saw  it,  nor  to  confide 
in  their  pretended  attachments,  longer  than  I 
%vas  with  them. 

From  this  place  I  returned  to  my  appoint- 
ments whence  1  came,  and  found  in  some  pla- 
ces religion  reviving  and  souls  were  convertedT 
and  in  some  places  the  people  seemed  careless 
and  unfeeling,  and  I  apparently  was  of  little 
Use  to  them. 

April  10th,  1  attended  at  Chany  Chapel  with 
John  Robinson  and  others,  who  professed  to  be 
Republican  Methodists.  I  preached  and  com- 
muned with  them.  I  believed  in  their  religion, 
and  felt  sweetly  united  with  them  in  christian 
love;  but  I  did  not  believe  in  their  little  dis- 
cipline and  confession  of  faith,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  Methodist  and 
Presbyterian.  Nor  did  I  believe  in  their  name, 
as  I  thought  it  more  properly  belonged  to  the 
Beast,  than  to  them. 


39 

The  vernal  season,  with  all  her  reviving  and 
blooming  charms,  now  began  to  expand  her 
"blushing  beauties  round.  The  cold  north 
wind,  cease  to  blow,  and  the  white  mantling 
snows  are  melted.  The  rising  summits  ofthedis- 
tant  hills,  and  the  fertile  vales  that  lie  between* 
bow  display  their  gay  and  living  verdure.  The 
birds  flutter  and  sing,  and  fill  the  green  woods 
with  their  melodious  song.  OJ  thought  I, 
when,  in  like  manner,  will  the  storms  o  f  perse- 
cution, contentions  and  oppositions,  that  chill 
the  christian  world,  cease  to  bl  ow.  When  shall 
the  wide  sprea  ding  and  darkening  clouds  of  an- 
ti  christian  errors,  be  dissipated,  and  leave  our 
christian  horizon  to  pour  the  illuminating  rays 
of  divine  light  upon  the  intellectual  world. 
When  will  this  long  raining  and  hard  freezing 
winter  roll  away,  to  usher  in  the  charming  and 
delightful  spring.  When  christians  of  every 
sect,  like  birds  of  every  name,  shall  rise  revive 
and  sing  a  universal  song  of  victory,  over  the 
beast,  and  over  his  image,  and  over  his  mark, 
and  over  the  number  of  his  name ! 

From  this  place  I  attended  at  several  places, 
where  I  saw  some  good  was  done ;  but  at  one 
place  I  had  a  severe  trial.  A  drunken  man 
made  an  interruption  in  the  congregation,  by 


40 

caning  me  a  d tl  fool,  liar,  hypocrite,  o^. ; 

threatening  to  boat  my  d d  brain*  out.     He 

was  taken  out  of  the  house,  and  the  doors  shut 
against  him;  and  after  throwing  some  stones 
against  the  wall  and  on  the  roof,  he  went  a» 
way. 

Within  a  few  weeks  past,  I  have  seen  many 
evidences  of  the  divine  favor,  in  the  conversion 
of  sinners,  and  some  partial  appearances  of 
that  union  and  peace,  which  shall  one  day 
consolidate  and  harmonize  all  God's  people. 
My  soul  has  been  enraptured  in  contemplating 
the  glories  of  that  happy  day,  when  Anti- 
Christ  shall  be  destroyed,  and  when  Jesus  shall 
be  King  in  all  the  earth,  and  his  name  one. 

May  15th,  I  held  a  two  day's  meeting  at  bro- 
ther Sledd's  (a  preacher)  near  the  Blue  Ridge. 
We  held  a  communion,  and  the  Lord  blessed 
us,  and  gave  us  a  refreshing  time. 

From  this  ^lace,  accompanied  by  brother 
Sledd,  I  started  to  a  union  meeting,  to  be  hol- 
den  at  Shiloh  meeting  house,  in  Halifax  coun- 
ty Va.  On  our  way  we  held  meeting  at  Maj. 
Ward's  to  a  lar<re  assembly.  At  this  place, 
I  received  an  anonymous  letter,  containing  six 
very  difficult  and  perplexing  questions;  deeply 
involving  the  doctrine  of  Calvinism,  Deism  and 


41 


Universalianism.  The  writer  insisted  for  an 
answer,  and  as  T  fully  thought  those  doctrines 
were  not  tenable,  but  could  be  refuted  by 
Scripture  and  reason,  I  answered  them.  I 
have  room  here  to  insert  neither  the  ques- 
tions nor  the  answer. 

From  this  place  we  went  on  and  preached 
at  brother  Chapel's,  a  Christian  preacher. 
The  people  were  careless  and  unaffected.  We 
thence  went  home,  and  tarried  during  the 
■eight  with  brother  T.  Jeter,  a  Christian  r-rca- 
eher,  of  considerable  eminence,  but  a  slave  hol- 
der !  Here  we  met  with  Wm.  Guiry  and  with 
T.  Plumer,  from  New  England,  who  were  di- 
recting for  the  same  meeting,  to  which  we  were 
going.  The  next  day  we  all  went  on  to  the 
neighborhood  of  Shiloh.  On  Friday  |9th  of 
May,  the  Union  meeting  commenced.  At  can- 
dlelight I  was  set  forward  to  preach.  I  -did  so, 
to  the  joy  of  my  own  soul,  and  I  thought  to  the 
comfort  of  others.  But  T.  Plumer,  (from  N8 
Carolina )  immediately  rose  up  in  the  congre- 
gation, and  in  his  discourse  observed,  "such 
preaching  (alluding  to  mineNi  was  not  fit  for 
God,  men  nor  Devils."  This,  with  some  oth- 
er impcrtinencies,  disgusted  the  most  of  the 
preaching  brethren,  so  that  he  was  but  coolly 


42 

received.  Though  he  came  to  open  a  commu- 
nication between,  and  to  urate  the  christians 
in  the  East  and  South  together,  he  did  not 
succeed  in  his  mission.  At  this  meeting,  I  saw 
and  met  with  my  dear  brother,  T.  Reeves,  who 
had  led  me  along  and  given  me  aid  in  the  min- 
istry, when  I  was  weak  and  helpless.  On  Mon- 
day afternoon,  the'meeting  closed.  It  was  sol- 
emn to  seethe  .reachers.  embracing  each  Oth* 
er,  .robably  for  the  last  time  they  should  meet 
on  ejrth.  And  to  see  the  weeping  mourners 
dro:  ning  the  penitential  tear,  and  saying  to  the 
preachers,  "pray  for  me !." 

This  evening  I  ieft  the  meeting  ground,  and 
went  on  four  miles  towards  Danville,  and  tar- 
ried all  night  at  the  house  where  a  daughter 
had  been  convicted  of  her  sins,  at  the  meeting, 
and  was  yet  under  great  distress  and  affliction 
of  mind.  'T  was  said  she  slept  none,  but  pray- 
ed and  mourned  all  the  night!  Next  morning  I 
again  prayed  for  her,,  and  while  engaged  in  the 
duty,  she  found  redemption  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 

Thence  I  passed  on,  crossed  Dan  river,  and 
at  Bight  held  meeting  at  brother  West's ;  but 
my  mind  was  clouded,  and  it  was  with  difficul- 
ty I  could  find  any  thing  to  say.    After  meet* 


43 

lg,  I  felt  mortified  and  much  depressed, 
lext  morning  I  was  informed  that  a  man  was 
■tnsibly  convinced  of  his  sins,  while  hearing 
ie  preach,  and  was  constrained  to  fall  on  his 
nees,  on  his  way  home,  and  prayed  mightily 
)rGou  to  be  merciful  to  his  soul. 

Thence  I  directed  my  way  for  my  native 
lace,  and  in  the  evening  arrived  safely  at  my 
Iother's,  and  found  her,  my  brother  and  rela. 
ons  well.  During  a  week  I  preached  in  the 
eighborhood,  in  the  day  and  at  night.  The 
«ord  tendered  some  of  the  people's  hearts, 
)me  of  whom  rejoiced  aloud,  and  some  cried 
>r  mere  y. 

On  the  last  Sunday  in  May,  I  met  with  J, 
>'Kelly,  at  Apple's  meeting  house,  near  the 
[igh  Rock  of  Haw  river,  in  Guilford  county, 
'he  congregation  was  large  and  deeply  affect* 
3.  We  had  the  communion,  in  which  many 
f  the  Presbyterians,  and  some  of  the  Metho- 
ists joined  with  us. 

From  this  place  I  went  on  westwardly,  thro* 
ruilford,  Stokes,  Iredel  and  Surry  counties, 
reaching  almost  every  day,  sometimes  twice 
i  the  day.  In  Iredel,  I  could  not  do  many 
lighty  works,  because  of  the  Presbyterians  2 
^heir  religion  seemed  to  consist  in  keeping  the 


44 

Sabbath,  and  in  withstanding  every  thing  that 
not  Calvinism!  I  went  on  through  Grayson  an 
Wythe  counties,  in  Va,  and  preached  fiftee 
times  in  ten  days,  among  ray  old  acquaintance 
in  which  time  some  professed  religion,  and  som 
mourning  under  a  sense  of  their  sins,  promised  t 
geek  the  Saviour,  until  they  should  find  him,  pr< 
cious  to  their  souls. 

I  then  returned  toN.  Carolina,  tarried  two  day 
with  my  relations  and  went  on  to  the  lower  pai 
of  the  state,  in  the  regions  about  Edenton.  M 
profession  was  strange  here,  and  ray  access  to  th 
people  wa9  difficult  Some  of  the  Methodists 
liking  my  doctrine,  took  me  in  till  their  circui 
rider*  came  round  and  alarmed  them,  that  I  wa 
'an  O'Kfll.i  ite,  and  charged  them  to  keep  me  ou 
of  their  houses,  and  forthwith  they  obeyed  them! 
Here  I  found  the  mqschetos  and  the  gnats  to  bi 
exceedingly  troublesome,  the  sectarians  \  cry  bit 
ter,andthe  water  extremely  bad  and  insalubri 
ous.  In  my  travel,  not  far  from  Tarborough, 
called  at  ai  inn,  late  in  the  evening  and  asked  th 
landlord  to  stay  all  night,  telling  him  1  had  n 
money.  He  bfgan  to  interrogate  me  very  impel 
tinently.  I  answered  him.  He  swore  be  though 
I  was  some  runaway  apprentice  boy,  and  that  th 
bor>c  I  was  on  was  a  stolen  one.  and  he  had 
great  nnnd  to  take  me  up  as  «uch.  I  told  him  h 
wag  welcome  to  do  so,  and  ia  thi*  way  I  should  ge 


45 

night's  lodging  with  him.  However  he  cursed 
je  to  begone  as  he  would  not  be  troubled  a- 
tout  it  I  started,  and  in  going  a  short  distance, 
\y  the  light  of  the  moon,  I  discovered  a  path  that 
eat  I  through  a  thick  woods,  which  I  followed.  Af- 
er  going  about  two  m:les  through  a  dry  lonesome 
wamp,  I  came  to  a  rural  mansion,  where  I  was 
eccived  and  hospitably  entertained.  This  night, 
Vhile  lying  in  the  bed  my  mind  was  led  into  an 
.niple  contemplation  of  the  goodness  of  God,  and 
lis  various  dealings  with  me,  which  filled  my  soul 

ith  inexpressible  consolations  Here  many 
^onesome  scenes  and  joyful  hours,  which  I  had 
een,  rose  into  review.  The  many  dangers  1  had 
V«is«ed,  and  the  deliverances  1  had  found.  The 
Occasion  produced  the  following: 

O  may  I  always  find  thy  grace  so  sweet, 
As  now  I  lay  me  down  at  Jesus'  feet; 
O  may  transporting  joys  bear  me  above, 
All  earthly  objects,  or  a  creature's  love. 

rhe  nexf  morning,  my  host  having  discovered  that 
I  was  a  preacher,  invite^  me  to  stay  and  preach, 
which  I  did  at  candlelight,  to  an  attentive  and  se- 
rious audience.  On  the  next  morning,  when  I 
was  about  to  start  my  host  gave  me  one  dollar, 
commended  me  to  the  protection  of  Almighty 
grace  and  bid  me  God  speed  in  the  heavenly 
road. 


46 

I  now  directed  my  course  for  the  old  route  d 
circuit,  which  I  had  before  travelled  ,  with  brotha 
er  T  Reeves.  About  the  15th  of  July  I  arrived 
there,  at  a  place  called  Holy  Keck.  I  now  wen  i 
on  preaching  nearly  every  day,  in  the  counties  o 
Southampton,  Nancemond,  Currituck,  J\7orfolk 
Isle  of  Wight  and  Surry. 

About  the  1st  of  August,  I  held  meeting  at  Leb 
anon  meeting  house,  in  Surry  county,  when  a  re- 
vival commenced.  Old  professors  were  animated 
many  of  the  wicked  were  convicted,  and  some 
were  converted.  The  cries  and  prayers  of  the 
congregation  increased  during  the  day.  At  night1 
we  repaired  to  brother  Judkin's  to  worship,  and' 
the  meeting  did  not  close  till  Tuesday;  in  which 
time  thirteen  souls  professed  to  be  brought  from 
darkness  to  light,  and  loudly  praised  their  Saviour* 

Thence  1  preached  at  Baitley's,  Holaway's, 
Chapelt's,  and  at  brother  B.  Barrett's.  At  his 
house  the  work  of  the  Lord  revived.  His  son 
Mills  was  convicted  of  his  sins,  while  I  was 
preaching  of  the  return  of  the  prodigal  son  Two 
of  his  daughters  obtained  the  forgiveness  of  sins 
and  several  others. 

On  the  second  Sunday  in  August,  I  returned 
and  held  meeting  at  Lebanon,  where  perhaps  2000 
people  collected.  Brother  Barrett,  the  preacher, 
niet  with  me,  and  brought  his  son  who  was  yet 
-seeking  the  Saviour.    At  this  meeting  he  profess- 


47 


I  «d  to  have  the  love  of  God    shed  abroad  in  his 
■  heart.     At    candlelight,    while     mourners    were 
I  praying,  and  a  general  noise  was  in  the  congrega* 
[  lion,  a  man  came  to  me  with  a  stick  concealed  un- 
t  tier  his  coat,  and    asked  me  to    come  out   to  the 
,  yard,  and  pray  for  a  mourner  who  was  there  cry- 
ing for  mercy.     I  started   out  with  him.  but  be- 
fore I  came  to  the  door,  another  man  pulled   me 
j  back,  and  as  I  was   returning  to  the    pulpit,   the 
;  man  with  his  stick  came  and  struck  at  me,  but  the 
\  blow  was  warded.     He  then   caught  hold  on  me 
i  and  was  about  to  beat  me  with  his  club,  but  was  pre 
i  vented  by  others  and  put  out  of  the  house.     I  tar- 
ried three   days  in  the  neighborhood,   and    held 
meeting  from  house  to  house,  almost  all  night  and 
day.     la  this  time  seven  gave  evidence   of   being 
born  again,  and  were  added  to  the  church. 

On  Wednesday  I  went  on  and  preached  at  bro« 
ther  Holaway's.  On  Thursday  morning,  I  started 
to  my  appointment  several  miles  distant,  accom- 
panied by  two  of  brother  Holaway's  daughters 
and  one  of  their  cousins.  In  our  way  we  "had  to 
cross  a  stream  of  water,  over  which  a  new  budge 
was  erected,  and  was  in  an  unfinished  state,  having 
no  banisters,  and  the  plank  loose  on  the  sleepers, 
I  went  foremost  on  the  bridge.  When  I  was 
nearly  over,  brother  Hs.  youngest  daughter's  horse 
became  frightened  at  the  shaking  of  the  bridge, 
and  instantly  ran  back  on  the  end  of  the  planks, 


48 


and  threw  him«eif  and  his   screaming   rider   into 
the  stream!     The  water  was.  about    15    feet  deep, 
and  of  considerable  width,     i  jumped    from    my 
hor9e  and  ran  without  pulling  off  my   hat,  coat  or 
boots,  and  leaped  into  the  stream  to  save  the  drow- 
ning damsel.  Before  I  reached  her,  she  was  sinking 
the  third  time.     When  I  came  to   her  she  caught 
me  round    the    neck,  and  with   much  exertion   I 
broke  her  hold.     I  took  her  by  the  arm  with  one 
hand,  and  with  great  difficulty,    and  at   the   haz- 
ard ol  ray  own   life,  conveyed   her    to  the    shore. 
Where  I  brought  her  to  the   bank,   the  water  was 
deep;  but  by  the  assistance  of  the  other   two  wo- 
men, who  had  been  screaming  almost    to   distrac- 
tion, we  raised  her  on    the  bank,  but  to    all  ap. 
pearance   dead!     A  large  portion   of  water   pour- 
ed out  of  her  mouth,  and    we    presently   obsei 
symptoms  of  life.  In  the   space  of  half  an    ho 
she  recoved  life  and  strength  to  speak      In  brol 
accents  she  began    to  express  her  thanks  to   m 
that  I  had  saved   her  life,   and   said    if  it   had   n 
been  forme,  by  this  time  she  would  have  been   i 
hell.     I  told  her  that  her  thanks  belonged  to  God 
who  had  preserved    her  life  that    she  might  take 
warning  to  repent.     For  the  space  of  two  hours, 
she  wa*  uuable  to  ride.     We  then  helped   her  on 
her  horse,  an  I  by  the  assistance  of  her  sister  hold- 
ing her  on.  she  was  enabled  to  return  homeward, 


49 


but  for  want  of  strength,  bad  to  tarry  with 
an  acquaintance  by  the  way  for  the  night. 

This  circumstance  brought  conviction  to  her 
soul — she  sought  the  Saviour  by  earnest  prayer, 
and  shortly  found  him  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 
This  was  also  the  means  of  awakening  two  of  her 
brothers  to  a  sense  of  their  sins,  both  of  whom 
shortly  professed  faith  in  Jesus;  and  one  of  them 
Zachariah  Holaway,  shortly  commenced  preach* 
ing.  and  remains  steadfast  and  useful  to  this  day. 

I  went  in  my  wet  clothes  to  my  appointment* 
where  the  people  were  waiting  for  me.  They 
thought  strange  to  see  me  so  very  wet,  on  so  clear 
a  day,  and  some  had  it  soon  reported  ,  that  I  was 
drunk,  and  had  fallen  into  the  mill  pond,  &c,! 

Thence  I  went  to  brother  Barrett's,  where  the 
little  revival  that  had  started,  was  yet  spreading, 
and  taking  many  both  old  and  young,  out  of  Sa_ 
tan's  kingdom,  into  the  liberty  of  the  children  of 
God! 

From  this  place  1  went  on  my  circuit,  preaching 
tb  people  in  some  places,  apparently  hard  as 
stones,  and  at  some  places  I  saw  appearances  of 
good,  till  I  came  again  to  Lebanon,  where  the  work 
of  the  Lord  was  yet  spreading.  The  last  Sunday 
in  September,  I  spoke  to  a  large  congregation, 
and  several  professed  religion.  When  in  .  .ag 
closed  ,  I  started  out  to  ray  horse.  When  I  came 
to  him,  two  men  were  standing  by,  one  with  a. 
G 


50 


terge  pocket  knife  open  in  his  hand,  the  other 
held  a  large  stirk.     One  of  them  observed,  I  ought 

to  have  a  d d  beating,  and  that  they  intended 

to  give  it  to  me. — They  said  because  I  had  be- 
witched the  people — set  them  crazy,  &c.  The  one 
raised  his  stick  to  strike  me.  I  looked  him  in  the 
face,  and  said  Lcrd  have  mercy  on  your  poor 
wicked  soul;  at  which  his  stick  fell  out  of  his 
hand  and  his  face  turned  pale.  The  other  shut  up 
his  knife  and  looking  frightened  said,  we  cant 
hurt  him.  By  this  time,  some  others  drew  up  and 
threatened  to  prosecute  them  for  the  assault,  and 
they  withdrew. 

A  few  weeks  after  this,  we  had  a  communion  at 
brother  B.  Barretts,  where  VVm.  Guiry  met  with 
us.  At  this  meeting  several  professed  to  be  born 
again,  and  many  were  brought  to  their  knees  in 
tears  and  prayers  When  we  were  about  commu- 
ning, a  wicked  mob  collected  and  came  to  disturb 
us.  Some  of  them  were  repulsed,  and  some  re 
mained  in  the  house,  and  by  way  of  mocking 
having  furnished  themselves,  they  ate  bread  and 
drank  wine  in  commemoration  of  their  Lord — and 
this  they  did,  being  intoxicated!!  Shortly  after 
this,  one  of  them  felt  convicted  for  his  crime,  and 
became  a  sincere  praying  man. 

About  this  time,  brother  Mills  Barrett,  who 
professed  to  be  my  son  in  the  gospel,  being  under 
eicrcises  to  preach  the  gospel,  started  out  travel- 


£1 


ling  with  rae,  and  continued  mostly  with  me  dur> 
ing  my  stay  on  that  circuit  In  which  time,  he 
made  a  rapid  improvement  and  seemed  to  bid  lair 
to  be  a  useful  man. 

December  24th,  I  travelled  all  day  facing;  an  in- 
tense cold  wind.  Being  thinly  clad  and  having  no 
great  coat,  about  dark  I  felt  myself  numb  and 
sleepy.  I  became  alarmed,  believing  I  would 
freeze.  1  alighted  to  walk,  but  was  scarcely  able 
to  get  along.  Sleepiness  had  almost  overcome  me. 
In  walking  a  little  distance,  I  came  to  fire  by  the 
road  side,  which  perhaps  had  been  left  by  wag- 
goners. I  kindled  it,  and  warmed  myself  until  I 
felt  my  strength  return  and  my  drowsiness  leave 
me.  I  deemed  this  a  providential  deliverance 
from  death,  which  I  believe  had  already  began  to 
work  on  me!!  Having  warmed  myself,  I  went  on 
about  three  miles,  and  came  to  old  brother 
George's  almost  frozen  again. 

Here  1  was  soon  made  comfortable  by  the  kind- 
ness of  the  family,  and  felt  thankful  that  I  had  a 
merciful  God,  who  was  always  mindful  of  me. 

Shortly  after  this,  being  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Lebanon,  the  brethren  .hearing  of  my  sufferings, 
bought  rae  a  great  coat. 

During  the  winter  I  followed  up  my  appoint- 
ments with  unremitted  zeal,  often  suffering  hun- 
ger, cojd,  persecutions,  oppositions  and  threats 
of  violence.     In  several  places  the  work  of  the 


52 


Lord  revived ,  and  I  felt  consoled  and  fully  com- 
pensated in  seemg  souls  converted  to  God. 

In  the  month  of  March  1810,  two  Christian 
preachers,  R.  Dooly  and  R  Clark,  from  the  west, 
came  into  my  route.  I  introduced  and  recom- 
mended them  among  the  brethren  We  travelled 
together  some  days  They  were  highly  esteemed 
and  seemed  to  be  useful. 

In  April  I  felt  my  mind  strongly  inclined  to 
leave  those  regions,  and  sound  the  gospel  in  places 
far  distant  I  fait  the  more  clear  in  doing  so.  as 
those  men  intended  to  stay  in  my  circuit,  till  the 
Union  meeting,  which  was  to  be  held  at  Lebanon 
io  May 

About  the  last  of  <\pnl,  I  gave  my  farewell  dis- 
course to  the  people,  anr'  to  the  young  converts  at 
Lebanon  This  was  a  solemn  though  joyful  time. 
Though  we  gave  the  parting  hand,  perhaps  to  see 
each  other's  faces  no  more  in  the  flesh,  we  had  a 
strong  hope  that  we  should  meet  in  a  better  coun- 
try, where  we  shall  part  no  more.  Thence  I  went 
on  from  place  to  place,  till  I  came  again  to  brother 
Barrett  s  Here  I  preached,  and  parted  from  the 
many  happy  young  converts  and  faithful  old  sol- 
diers of  the  cross,  with  whom  I  had  enjoyed  many 
happy  hours  in  the  worship  of  God. 

By  looking  over  my  memorandum,  I  discover- 
ed that  within  t'ip  last  nine  months,  when  I  start- 
ed to  come  to  this  route,  I  had  held   about  there 


63 


hundred  meetings,  and  seventy-three  souls  had 
professed  a  happy  change  from  darkness  to  light, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  my  labor,  and  ma- 
ny brought  to  a  knowledge  of  their  sins,  who  I 
hoped  would  have  cause  to  thank  God  that  he  had 
ever  sent  me  to  proclaim  liberty  to  their  captive 
souls. 

By  loud  and  frequent  speaking — with  the  many 
devotional  exercises  that  devohedon  me,  I  was 
now  afflicted  with  a  distressing  cough  and  spitting 
of  blood. 

I  bid  farewell  to  brother  Barrett  and  his  affec- 
tionate family  ,  and  dire<  ted  my  course  for  my  na- 
tive place  in  N.  Carolina.  In  ten  days,  having 
preached  several  times  by  the  way,  and  suffered 
some  distresses  among  strangers,  I  arrived  on  Haw 
River  at  my  mother's.  JSext  day  I  attended  an 
appointment  previously  made  for  me.  But  with 
so  much  bodily  weakness  I  could  scarcely  perlorm 
service.  I  attempted  to  hold  several  meet'ngs  in 
the  neighborhood,  but  could  not  extend  my  voice 
to  be  heard  by  a  large  audience.  It  was  nowr 
thought  that  I  had  the  consumption,  and  1  wa*  ad- 
vised by  friends  to  leave  off  speaking,  and  relax 
my  studies,  that  I  nnght  recover 

On  the  29th  of  May,  I  bade  fare swell  to  my  mo- 
ther and  brother,  and  started,  weak  in  body  and 
much  reduced  in  flesh,  for  the  western  and  fron» 
tier  countries,     My  contemplations  during    the 


64 


day,  were  serious  and  mournful.  The  journey 
before  me,  the  dangers  and  distresses  I  might 
meet,  revolved  in  my  mind.  After  riding  for- 
ty miles,  I  called  at  an  inn,  in  Stokes  county, 
so  weak  and  faint,  that  I  could  not  get  into  the 
house  without  assistance.  I  felt,  during  the 
night,  my  complaint  to  increase.  The  land- 
lord was  previously  acquainted  with  me.  He 
seemed  deeply  interested  for  me,  and  wished 
to  call  for  a  physician,  but  I  objected.  Next 
morning  1  was  unable  to  ride.  I  tarried  till 
the  next  day.  I  had  gained  a  little  strength, 
and  thought  I  could  ride.  I  started  on  my 
journey  again,  and  in  only  going  a  few  miles, 
was  convinced  I  was  too  weak  to  get  along.  I 
turned  back,  and  in  two  days  arrived  at  my 
mother's.  I  was  there  confined  several  days- 
Coughing  and  spitting  blood  harrassed  me  day 
and  night.  In  about  four  weeks,  I  recovered 
a  little  strength,  so  that  I  could  ride  slowly, 
and  speak  so  as  to  be  heard  by  a  congregation. 
June  29th,  I  started  and  travelled  in  various 
parts  of  N.  and  S.  Carolina,  frequently  preach- 
ing to  large  congregations.  In  some  instances 
the  power  of  God  attended  the  words  of  my 
mission,  and  several  persons  professed  to  be 
converted  under  my  ministry.   In  these  regions 


5-5 


i  found  several  companies  of  believers,  who  had 
collected  themselves  together,  under  the  name 
"Christian,"  taking  the  Scriptures  only  for 
their  rule.  My  coming  to  them,  seemed  like 
the  coming  of  Titus. 

The  weather  was  excessively  warm  here,  and 
the  people  unhealthy  and  pale,  but  1  felt  my- 
self recovering  and  my  strength  increase.  The 
land  is  very  poor,  except  on  some  of  the  rivers? 
Pedee,  Santee,  &c.  interspersed  with  pine  and 
scrubby  oak,  sandy,  level  and  swampy. 
Thence  1  turned  my  course,  and  about  Fay- 
etteville,  Newbern  and  Raleigh,  in  N.  Caroli- 
na, I  preached  frequently.  I  went  on  through 
Wake,  into  Warren  county,  on  Roanoke  ri- 
ver, where  I  had  some  happy  meetings.  At 
Liberty  meeting  houses  two  souls  professed  to 
be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  their  sins  for- 
given. Here  I  met  with  J.O'Kelly.  We  went 
over  the  river  into  Virginia,  and  travelled  sev- 
eral days  together,  and  preached  to  large  and 
attentive  congregations.  I  returned  to  Caro- 
lina and  held  meeting  at  brother  Gill%  where 
brother  Mills  Barrett  met  me.  We  travelled 
together  through  Warren,  Granville,  Orange 
and  Casewell  counties — crossed  Dan  river  and 
went  into  Halifax  county,  Va.    Thence  re^ 


5G 


turned  into  Carolina — went  through  Case- 
well,  Rockingham,  Guilford  and  into  Orange 
county,  and  came  to  my  mother's,  having 
preached  almost  every  day,  and  frequently  at 
candlelight ;  in  which  time,  I  saw  thirteen  souls 
delivered  from  the  power  of  darkness,  and 
translated  into  the  kingdom  of  the  Son  of  God. 
it  hers  were  brought  to  a  deep  sense  of 
their  sins,  and  signalized  themselves  as  mourn- 
ers i.i  Zioh.  We  held  a  few  meetings  in  the 
neighborhood.  Brother  Barrett  and  I  then 
parted,  and  he  returned,  I  suppose,  to  Virginia. 

By  this  time  (September)  I  had  almost  reco- 
vered from  my  complaint.  My  spitting  of 
blood  had  almost  ceased,  and  my  cough  trou- 
bled me  but  little. 

October  14th,  1810, 1  started  for  the  western 
country.  I  went  16  miles  and  came  to  a  com- 
munion occasion,  held  at  Apple's  meeting  house 
in  Guilford  county.  Here  I  met  with  brother 
R.  Dooly.  This  was  a  happy  time  to  many  of 
our  souls. 

Monday  15th,  I  and  brother  Dooly  went  on 
our  journey,  and  tarried  all  night  in  Salem,  a 
Moravian  town.  These  people  live  as  one  fa- 
mily. The  town  is  elegant,  the  streets  are 
neat,   and  the  people    are  sober,  quiet  ami 


57 


peaceable.  Thence  we  crossed  Yadkin  river 
and  put  up  at  T.  Anderson's,  in  Rowan  coun- 
ty. In  this  neighborhood  we  held  a  five  day's 
meeting,  and  administered  the  Lord's  Supper. 
Here  fifty-five  Presbyterians  forsook  their  con- 
fession of  faith,  and  declared  themselves  the 
Lord's  free  children.  From  this  meeting  I  di- 
rected my  course  westwardly,  and  travelled 
twelve  days,  and  arrived  at  a  great  meeting, 
held  by  the  people  called  Christians,  at  Hope- 
well meeting  house,  on  Bledsoe  creek,  West 
Tennessee.  In  this  journey  I  preached  three- 
times — passed  through  J  onesborough,  Leesburg 
and  Greentown,  in  East  Tennessee. — Crossed 
Nolechucky,  Walaga,  Clinch,  Holstein,  Big 
Emera,  and  Cumberland  rivers.  In  the  wilder- 
ness, 1  suffered  hunger  and  cold,  being  exposed 
to  an  incessant  rain  one  whole  day,  and  did  not 
arrive  at  the  stand  where  I  had  to  put  up,  till 
late  in  the  night. 

At  this  meeting,  preachers  and  people  were 
all  strange  to  me,  only  one  preacher  whom  I 
had  seen  before.  I  was  kindly  received  and 
admitted  to  preach  on  Sunday  to  the  congre- 
gation, which  was  large  and  attentive.  I 
found  the  Christian  preachers  and  the  brethren 
here,  to  be  much  like  those  in  the  South,  dift 
C  2 


otf 


fering  from  them  mostly  on  the  subject  of  bap- 
tism. 

Thence  I  directed  my  course  for  Duck  river. 
November  9th,  I  attended  at  Bethleham  meet- 
ing house,  with  several  other  preachers,  on  a 
communion  occasion,  which  continued  four 
days.  During  this  time  there  was  much  exer- 
cise (as  it  is  called)  among  the  people.  Thia 
exercise  consists  chiefly  in  shouting,  dancing, 
jumping,  hollowing,  laughing,  &c. 

From  this  meeting  I  travelled  one  hundred 
and  four  miles,  in  three  days,  and  held  three 
meetings.  People  are  but  thinly  settled  here. 
Their  houses  consist  of  small  cabins,  and  some 
who  have  lately  arrived  in  the  country ,  dwell  in 
tents.  The  face  of  the  country  is  exceedingly 
fertile  and  beautiful,  and  when  cultivated  and 
improved,  will  certainly  yield  those  adventur- 
ers an  ample  remuneration  for  their  present 
sufferings.  I  preached  in  Columbia,  a  county 
town,  lately  laid  out  on  Duck  river,  to  an  at- 
tentive audience.  I  visited  and  preached  to 
the  settlers  on  Bigby  and  Elk  rivers,  and  Rich- 
land creek.  My  audiences  were  small,  but  at- 
tentive, and  individuals  seemed  to  be  deeply 
interested  in  the  salvation  of  their  souls. 


59 


November  23d  and  24th,  I  rode  through  a 
largo  extent  of  uninhabited  country.  It  was 
mostly  covered  with  cane.  The  fertility  of 
the  soil,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  timber,  far 
exceeded  any  thing  I  had  seen  before. 

In  yonder  deep,  lonely  grove  I  roam'd  unseen, 
'Midst  tow'ring  oaks  and  herbage  ever  green ; 
Where  beasts  of  prey  &  prowling  vultures  haunt, 
And  the  dread  savage  made  my  heart  to  pant. 

I  returned  to  Columbia  again,  held  meetings 
there,  and  in  the  region  round  about.  Thence 
turned  my  course  for  Cumberland  again,  and 
preached  at  the  fishing  ford  of  Duck  river. 

November  29th,  I  rode  twelve  miles  to  my 
appointment  in  the  rain.  No  person  met  me  at 
the  appointed  place.  In  the  evening  I  put  up 
at  a  preacher's  house.  I  found  him  to  be  singu- 
lar in  his  sentiments.  Among  many  other  nov- 
elties, he  entirely  rejected  family  prayer,  as  a 
burden  laid  on  us  by  priest  craft ! 

December  1st  and  2d,  I  held  a  two  days'  meet* 
ing  on  Stone's  river.  The  brethren  appeared 
to  be  happy,  and  we  thought  the  Lord  was 
with  us.  Here  I  was  met  by  brother  Adams, 
a  Christian  preacher,  a  man  of  learning  and 


66 


information.  From  this  place  I  went  home 
with  him,  and  preached  at  his  house.  Thence 
I  preached  aboutevery  day,  till  I  came  again 
to  Hopewell,  Thence  to  the  barrens  of  Ken- 
tucky. 

December  15th  and  16th,  I  held  a  two  days1 
meeting  at  brother  Mulky's.  Here  brother 
Dooly  met  me.  The  people  felt  the  weight 
and  power  of  truth.  A  sister  gave  a  discourse, 
which  discovered  a  strong  mind,  and  a  zealous 
soul  and,  that  went  with  energy  to  the  hearts 
of  the  congregation..  I  preached  in  the  regions 
round  about,  till  December  29th.  In  which  I 
had  some  happy  seasons  with  the  people  of 
God,  and  met  with  some  trials  and  distresses. 

December  27th,  I  started  for  the  old  settle- 
ments of  Kentucky.  In  the  night  I  put  up  at 
Col.  Cacy's,  in  Adair  county.  I  preached  at 
his  house,  and  several  times  in  the  neighboF- 
hood.  There  is  no  church  of  the  Christian 
name  here ;  but  I  conversed  with  some  Meth- 
odists and  Baptists,  who  appeared  to  be  tired 
of  their  creeds,  and  of  that  spirit  of  bigotry, 
which  has  too  long  kept  the  children  of  God 
from  fellowship  and  union. 

Thence  I  went  three  days  through  a  poor 
-and  thinly  inhabited  part  of  the  country — suf^ 


ol 


fering  a  day's  rain,  crossing  Green  river,-  and 
many  other  rapid  streams  ;  some  of  which  were 
full,  and  dangerous  to  be  crossed.  I  came  to 
brother  I.  Reed's,  a  Christian  preacher,  from 
Va.  who  lived  near  Kentucky  river.  With 
him  I  was  refreshed.  He  introduced  me  among 
the  christian  brethren.  I  preached  almo-.t eve- 
ry day,  and  sometimes  twice  in  a  day,  in  those 
regions,  and  frequently  to  large  congregations, 
where  I  saw  many  happy  brethren,  and  many 
weeping  mourners,  and  some  who  professed  to 
be  born  again.  Thence  I  went  to  Lexington, 
and  held  meeting  at  brother  tides'. 

January  13th,  181 1, 1  held  meeting  at  Mount 
Tabor  and  Bethel  meeting  houses.  At  Tabor 
the  people  were  dull  and  lifeless.  I  preached 
at  brother  I.  Elmore's,  a  Christian  preacher, 
with  whom  I  had  been  acquainted  in  Va.  and 
with  whom,  in  his  own  house,  1  had  often  ta 
ken  sweet  counsel.  I  continued  to  preach  in 
Lexington  and  in  the  regions  round,  until 
March  22d.  Daring  this  time,  I  saw  the  work 
of  the  Lord  revive  in  several  places,  and  a  num- 
ber of  souls  professed  to  be  born  of  God,  thro' 
the  instrumentality  of  my  feeble  labors. 

March  22d,  I  bade  farewell  to  my  friends  in 
Lexington,  and  started  for  Cane  Ridge.     At 


62 


Cane  Ridge  meeting  house,  and  about  there,  I 
held  several  meetings  to  large  and  deeply 
affected  audiences.  This  place  is  sacred  and 
memorable,  in  my  estimation,  because  the  peo- 
ple who  now  are  called  "Christians"  for  the 
first,  in  the  west,  here  discarded  all  human 
catechisms,  confessions  of  faith,  doctrines  and 
disciplines  of  men,  and  publicly  declared  them- 
selves, henceforth,  to  be  known,  as  a  relidous 
body,  by  no  other  name  than  that  of  Chris- 
tian, and  to  take  the  Scriptures  only,  for  their 
rule  of  faith  and  practice. 

From  this  place  I  went  on  and  preached  a 
few  times  in  and  about  Concord  meeting 
house.  Here  I  saw  some  remarkable  instan- 
ces of  the  jerks.  Thence  I  started  for  Fleming 
county,  and  travelled  all  day  in  an  incessant 
rain.  When  1  came  to  Licking  river,  it  was 
very  full  and  rapid.  While  crossing  in  a  boat,, 
she  struck  a  stump,  which  stroke  split  a  olank 
of  the  boat,  and  the  water  becran  to  run  into 
her,  but  we  narrowly  escaped  sinking,  by  ar- 
riving at  the  shore  just  before  she  filled.  I  put 
up  at  one  of  the  brethren's  near  Flemingburgh. 
'Next  day  I  preached  in  the  neighborhood, 
where  we  had  a  happy  and  memorable  time. 
Thence  on  Cabin  creek.    On  the  Ohio  river,  I 


tio 


preached  several  times.  Here  the  spirit  of  the 
Lord  was  marvellously  among  the  people. 
Some  were  convicted  of  their  sins,  and  two 
professed  to  have  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in 
their  hearts. 

I  crossed  the  Ohio  river  and  preached  on 
Eagle  creek,  and  at  West  Union.  Thence  I 
made  for  Clear  creek.  My  road  was  uninhab- 
ited till  I  came  to  New  Market.  Soon  after 
passing  that  place  night  overtook  me.  My 
road  was  muddy,  the  night  was  dark,  and  I 
found  no  house  to  stop  at,  till  late  in  the  night. 
I  came  into  Hillsborough  and  put  up  with  a 
Quaker,  who  used  me  kindly.  Next  morning 
I  went  to  brother  G.  Wilson's  on  Clear  creek. 
I  preached  in  his  house,  and  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. I  preached  in  Hillsborough.  The  au- 
dience was  deeply  affected,  some  of  the  Meth- 
odists shouted,  and  sinners  wept.  Thence  I 
preached  at  brother  Gibson's. 

April  19th,  I  started  to  return  to  the  Ohio  ri- 
ver again,  by  the  way  of  West  Union.  This 
day  I  travelled  a  sollitary  road,  and  a  concur- 
rence of  circumstances  turned  my  meditations 
on  the  subject  of  the  origin  of  the  Devil.  I  in- 
quired how  he  came?  I  thought  on  the  popu- 
lar opinion — that  he  was  once  an  angel  of  light. 


* 


04 


nd  probably  one  of  the  highest  order.     To  this 
I  answered,  if  he  once  were  an  angel  of  light,  ] 

the  highest  created,  celestial  being  was 
peccable,  and  of  course  not  in  a  secure  state. 
Again,  I  could  not  account  how  temotation 
could  be  introduced  to,  or  sin  be  committed  by 
a  pure,  perfect  and  glorified  spirit!  I  also 
thought,  that  if  sin  affected  the  breast  of  this 
angel,  or  angels,  while  in  heaven,  it  must  have 
had  a  similar  effect  in  the  heavenly  world,  to 
that  which  it  produced  on  our  earth  when  in- 
troduced in  Eden.  This  would  make  a  hell 
of  heaven.  I  thought  of  the  passages  that  fa- 
vored this  doctrine.  Jude  6,  Isaiah  14,  12, 13, 
14.  From  the  context  of  these  passages,  I  con- 
cluded the  one  in  Isaiah  alluded  to  the  king  of 
Babylon,  and  the  one  in  Jude,  to  the  man  of 
gin,  or  those  who  spake  great  swelling  words. 
Again,  where  there  is  no  law  there  is  no  trans- 
gression ;  and  sin  is  a  transgression  of  the  law. 
How  a  pure  spirit,  the  immediate  ema  nation 
of  God,  could  have  a  law,  or  what  kind  of  a 
law  could  be  given  them,  was  utterly  be}rond 
my  reach  to  understand.  My  thoughts  trans- 
ported me  beyond  myself,  and  for  the  moment 
I  sunk  into  a  maze  of  scepticism.  I  asked  what 
is  the  Almighty  ?  What  am  I  ?  Is  my  existence 


e6 


real  or  imaginary  ?  I  stopped  my  horse.     I  was 
on  the  regions  of  despair! 

I  felt  miserable !  Lamenting  my  condition, 
in  full  confidence  that  there  is  a  God,  I  cried 
Lord  save  me.  My  hope  returned,  and  my 
doubts  fled  away.  Coming  to  myself  I  be- 
came afraid  I  might  destroy  myself.  Having 
no  weapon  but  a  penknife,  I  took  it  from  my 
pocket  and  threw  it  into  the  woods !  I  thought 
of  these  words,  "Thy  God  whom  thou  servest 
continually,  is  able  to  deliver  thee;"  which 
gave  me  great  comfort.  Temptations  and 
gloomy  prospects  continued  to  depress  my 
mind  during  the  day.  In  the  evening,  I  held 
meeting  in  West  Union,  but  I  felt  embarrassed 
>and  confused.  I  slept  but  litte  during  the 
night.  I  rose  at  the  dawn  of  day  and  walked 
to  the  woods.  I  viewed  the  spacious  firma- 
ment, which  was  clear  and  tranquil,  richly 
decked  with  her  thousand  stupendous  orbs  of 
light.  I  saw  the  orient  beams  of  day,  suild 
the  eastern  hoizon,  and  with  inimitable  beauty 
irradiate  the  western  sky.  The  scene  struck 
me  with  amazing  conviction,  Here  is  the 
Mighty  God  exhibited  throughout  his  bound- 
less empire !  The  birds  awoke  from  their  slum- 
bers, and  with  varied  notes  tuned  their  ear- 


06 

iy  anthems  to  the  coming  day.  Innoeenci| 
and  joy  seemed  to  sound  through  all  the  sur«| 
rounding  woods.  My  mind  emerged  from  her] 
gloom.  My  soul  was  overwhelmed  with  gratis 
tude  and  love.  With  inexpressible  raptures  I> 
mingled  my  song  with  the  warblers  of  the  grove, 
and  sang 

"When  we  are  raised  from  deep  distress, 

Our  God  deserves  a  song, 
We  take  the  pattern  of  our  praise 

From  H<?zekiah's  tongue." 

This  was  a  joyful  morning,  and  one  to  me,  ne- 
ver to  be  forgotten. 

From  this  place,  I  went  on  and  preached  at 
Eagle  creek.  Here  the  Lord  displayed  his 
love  in  the  redemption  of  one  soul,  and  in  the 
conviction  of  two  others,  who  presented  them- 
selves as  mourners;  for,  and  with  whom  we 
prayed.  After  meeting,  as  I  was  riding  on  the 
bank  of  the  Ohio,  a  thunder  storm  came  up, 
and  at  a  flash  of  lightning,  my  horse  frighted 
and  threw  me  off  him.  Not  being  dangerously 
hurt,  I  caught  him,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  rain 
and  hail,  I  came  to  a  small  cabin  and  took 
shelter.    After  the  shower,  I  crossed  the  river* 


67 


nd  held  meeting  at  candlelight  on  the  Ken- 
acky  shore,  at  a  house  where  a  sick  woman 
ay,  apparently  nigh  unto  death.  In  this  au- 
'ience  there  were  rejoicing  and  weeping. 
Thence  I  preached  at  Cabin  creek,  whe-e 
here  was  an  old  sinner  convicted,  and  he  de- 
ired  that  prayer  should  be  made  for  him. 
christians  rejoiced  and  sinners  mourned. 
Thence  I  crossed  the  Ohio — preached  tvvice 
>n  Eagle  creek.  Then  went  on  and  preach- 
d  at  West  Union.  From  th^re  to  Brush  creek 
nd  preached  several  times — and  on  Sunfish. 
.^eonle  are  but  thinly  settled  here,  and  have 
)ut  little  preaching.  I  did  not  see  much  sign 
>f  my  being  profitable  to  them.  I  returned  to 
ulear  creek,  and  held  meeting  at  I.  Kirkpat- 
ick's  (a  Christian  preacher)  and  on  Sunday 
it  the  meeting  house  near  by.  We  had  a  hap- 
)y  time. 

Thence  I  started  for  the  Scioto  country. 
The  second  day,  I  preached  at  the  house  of  a 
Methodist,  near  a  place  called  Oldtown. 
Thence  I  came  to  brother  Wilson's.  I  preach- 
ed at  his  house  to  a  few  people.  Several  miles 
rom  this  place,  I  attended  a  meeting,  in  con- 
unction  with  a  young  Methodist  preacher  by 
-he  name  of  Bascomb,  now  thQ  orattr.    H^s 


68 

sermon  contained  some  gross  inconsistence, 
and  some  cutting  reflections  against  the  nrci 
fession  to  which  I  belonged.  I  endeavored  tj 
rectify  his  mistakes — a  controversy  ensuee 
Wc  ended  about  where  all  such  fruitless  cor 
tentions  end — where  we  be  an !  Thence 
preached  at  the  widow  W  oil's,  on  North  Piini 
where  the  exercise  of  the  people  was  marvel 
lous  in  my  eyes. 

May  2d.  From  this  place  I  directed  for  m; 
appointment  on  Deer  creek,  near  where  Van 
kee  town  is  now  known.  In  this  day's  trav* 
I  was  delighted  with  the  face  of  the  countr; 
called  the  barrens.  The  extensive  plains  clo 
thed  with  living  verdure,  variasrated  with  wil< 
flowersof  every  tint  and  hue,  while  the  r;cl 
perfume  of  the  blooming  roses,  is  wafted  en  th; 
wingsof ev*rv  passio  zephyr,  prompted  in  m* 
an  enthusiasm  of  plea-ure,  but  rarely  felt.  A[ 
nhrhtl  preached  to  a  few  peonle.  Next  day! 
preached  lower  down  the  creek.  After  meet 
lag  T  went  to  brother  Alkier-,  a  Christian  prea 
cher.  Near  his  house  I  held  a  two  day's  meei; 
in?  in  an  unfinished  meeting  house,  on  th< 
bank  of  Deer  creek. 

May  6th.  In  the  mornincr  I  prepared  ant 
started  on  my  way  for  Philadelphia,    In  goinj 


69 

I  few  miles,  I  lost  my  way  and  wandered  in 
ic  barrens  for  some  hours,  but  falling  in  at  a 
abin,  I  was  directed  towards  the  Pickaway 
'lains.  I  presently  came  to  the  Scioto,  and 
rossed  it  at  West-fall,  and  went  through  the 
lains — a  delightful  prospect.  I  put  up  and  tar- 
ed all  night  in  New  Lancaster.  The  next 
vening  I  tarried  in  Zanesville,  on  Muskingum 
ver,  and  held  meeting  in  the  Court  house.  On 
\ie  next  day  at  10  o'clock  I  held  meeting  in 
le  same  place.  Thence  I  went  on  several 
ays.  One  evening  a  man  followed  me  some 
iistance  with  a  gun.  By  his  manner  I  appre- 
ended  he  designed  mischief  against  me.  He 
>ft  the  road  and  took  the  woods ;  but  as  far  as 
could  see  him  he  partly  kept  the  direction  of 
fie  road.  Shortly  after  he  was  out  of  my  sight 
icaine  to  a  creek,  it  was  then  a  little  dark. 
fcThile  my  horse  was  drinking,  I  thought  I 
leard  a  gun  snap.  I  whipped  up  my  horse, 
'ent  over  the  creek  and  ascended  a  small  hill, 
then  saw  the  man  coming  through  the  woods 
■wards  me.  I  then  dismounted  my  horse, 
ave  him  a  stroke  with  my  whip,  and  sent  him 
nin  a  trot.  I  then  went  towards  the  man  and 
ailed  him  as  a  friend.  I  told  him  I  was  a 
readier,  a  stranger,  &c.  and,  as  I  was  almost 


7U 

wn  out  of  money,  I  wished  him  to  tell  me 
where  I  could  find  a  religious  man's  house  to 
stay  during  the  night.  He  pretended  to  tell 
me.  I  then  bid  him  adieu  and  went  on.  He 
came  into  the  road  and  went  back  towards  his 
home.  Getting  out  of  his  sight,  1  ran  to  over- 
take my  horse;  for  I  was  yet  afraid  that  he 
might  take  a  nigh  turn  and  overtake  me  again. 
I  came  up  to  my  horse,  mounted  and  rode  him 
with  speed  for  some  distance.  I  found  my  road 
kept  a  pretty  straight  direction,  and  presently 
thought  myself  out  of  danger.  I  travelled,  I 
thought,  ten  miles  and  came  to  a  house,  where 
I  tarried  for  the  night. 

May  11.  I  started  in  the  rain,  and  the  rain 
fell  incessantly  during  the  day,  and  I  became 
wet  and  cold.  In  the  afternoon,  1  put  up  at 
an  inn,  and  called  for  something  warm  to  eat. 
The  two  women  of  the  house,  soon  fell  into 
conversation  with  me.  1  found  they  had  beer 
brought  up  Presbyterians.  While  dinner  v/m 
preparing  for  me,  the  young  woman  asked  me 
if  1  were  a  professor  of  religion  ]  1  answered 
yes.  She  asked  me  of  what  denomination.  | 
did  not  tell  her,  but  told  her  to  guess.  Sht 
tried  but  did  not  guess  right.  She  then  sak 
uhe  did  not  believe  1  had  religion,  but  1  wil 


71 


xow,  said  she,  when  dinner  comes  on;  for  if 
ou  are  a  religious  man,  you  will  surely  say 
;race.  Dinner  came  on,  1  sat  down  and  began 
o  eat,  without  saying  grace,  as  they  could 
iear,  In  a  short  time,l  asked  her  if  she  thought 
could  preach  ?  Preach !  said  she,  you  can 
Leach  about  as  much  as  1  can.  Said  1,  if  you 
can  get  the  liberty  of  this  house  for  me,  1  will 
try  what  1  can  do  at  it.  She  asked  the  land- 
lord for  the  house — he  seemed  to  be  as  fond  of 
;he  joke,  as  they  thought,  as  she  was,  and  gran- 
ted the  house,  and  immediately  sent  off  a  boy 
r.otell  the  people  to  come  to  preaching,  to-mor- 
*ow  at  12  o'clock.  After  the  boy  was  gone, 
;he  said  to  me,  are  you  not  sorry  r  Not  much 
said  1 .  Before  1  repaired  to  bed,  1  asked  leave 
Lo  pray.  In  prayer  the  young  woman  was 
brought  under  conviction,  and  constrained  to 
weep  After  prayer,  1  exhorted  her,  and  poin- 
ted out  her  salvation  in  the  great  Redeemer. 
Next  day  the  people  gathered,  and  I  preach- 
ed to  them.  When  1  started  from  the  place, 
the  young  woman  promised  to  seek  the  Sav- 
iour till  she  found  him. 

Thence  1  went  on,  crossed  the   Ohio   river, 
and  preached  in  Cannonsburg,     Thence  thror 


72 


Pittsburgh — 1  preached  in  Bedford  Court  house, 
Pennsylvania. 

May  24th,  1  arrived  in  Philadelphia.  1  put 
up  with  John  Hunter,  Esq.  deacon  in  the 
Christian  society.  An  appointment  was  made 
for  me,  at  their  meeting  house,  that  evening,  at 
candlelight.  Before  meeting  ccme  on,  Elias 
Smith  and  John  Gray,  from  N.  England,  arriv- 
ed. 1  preached  to  an  attentive  audience.  On 
the  next  evening  1  heard  E.  Smith  preach.  1 
preached  during  several  days  in  different  pla- 
ces in  the  city.  Two  souls  professed  religion 
and  werejoinedto  the  church. 

Thence  1  went  into  the  great  Valley,  (so- 
called;  in  Chester  county,  Penn.  1  held  seve- 
ral meetings  there,  and  met  much  opposition 
from  Sectarians.  Here  1  became  acquainted 
with  R.  Pucheon,  a  Christian  preacher. 

Thence  1  went  into  Delaware  above  New- 
port. 1  preached  with  success — souls  were  a- 
wakened,  and  some  forsook  their  creeds  and 
disciplines,  and  promised  to  take  the  Scrip- 
tures for  their  rule.  From  this  place  1  went  on 
and  preached  in  Newark,  Christiana,  Elton, 
Charleston,  at  Susqaphannah  river,  Haver- 
degrace,  and  in  Port  Penn.  Thence  1  return- 
ed to  Newport — held  several    meetings,   and 


V3 

the  work  of  the  Lord  continued  to  revive* 
I  then  went  on  to  Philadelphia  by  the  way  of 
Wilmington  and  Old  Chester.  In  the  city,  I 
found  the  work  of  the  Lord  prospering,  among 
the  christian  people,  and  members  were  add- 
ing to  them. 

I  now  became  acquainted  with  a  young  man 
by  the  name  of  R.  F.  Ferguson,  who  related  to 
me  his  experience,  and  the  manner  in  which 
the  Lord  was  calling  him  to  preach  the  gospel. 
[  heard  him  in  exhortation.  I  thought  he  might 
be  useful.  I  informed  him,  if  he  would  turn 
out  to  the  work  of  an  Evangelist,  I  would  sell 
my  saddle,  &c.  and  purchase  a  gig,  in  which  1 
would  give  him  a  seat,  and  take  him  with  me 
through  the  country.  He  promised  to  do  so, 
When  his  apprenticeship  would  expire.  IhiS 
would  be  about  the  following  Christmas. 

1  travelled  and  preached  in  different  places 
n  Pennsylvania  and  Delaware,  and  in  Phila 
ilelphia,  to  average  more  than  once  a  day,  un- 
til September.  During  which  time,  I  suiiered 
omch  persecution,  and  many  lonesome  and  dis- 
consolate feelings,  because  I  was  sometime! 
destitute  and  in  want.  In  this  time  I  was  bap- 
tised by  immersion  in  the  river  Schuylkill,  and 

o 


14 


ordained  an  elder  of  the  Church  of  Chiiet  ill 
the  city  of  Philadelphia. 

Having  purchased  a  double  seated  gig,  I 
made  ready  to  start  towards  the  South.  My 
farewell  sermon  was  appointed  to  be  in  out 
meeting  house,  in  the  city.  We  had  a  weep- 
ing timeTyet  many  of  us  rejoiced  in  spirit,  in 
hope  that  we  should  meet  again,  where  part* 
ing  is  not  known. 

September  20th :  In  the  morning*  brother  R. 
Ferguson  and  I  concluded,  that  he  should  meet 
me  in  Alexandria,  (D.  C.)  about  the  ensuing 
New  Year,  in  order  to  travel  with  me  to  preach 
the  gospel.  I  left  the  city  in  the  company  of 
£.  S.  to  attend  a  union  meeting  in  Va.  We 
preached  in  Newport,  Delaware*  at  night 
After  we  crossed  Susquehannah  river,  my  horse 
tired.  E.  S.  was  riding  in  my  gig  with  me. 
He  left  me  with  my  tired  horse  on  the  road, 
and  took  a  passage  in  a  hack  to  Baltimore, 
With  difficulty,  I  passed  on  to  Alexandria, 
Thence  I  went  into  Fairfax  county,  Va»  about 
Fall's  church,  and  held  meeting.  Here  I  had 
two  dollars  given  me.  This  took  me  to  Fred- 
ericksburg, where  I  held  meeting.  Thence  tc. 
Dickinson?s  Chapel,  where  we  held  our  unior. 
snecting.    Here  I  saw,     among  many   othe 


75 

preachers  Z.  Hollow  ay,  and  M.  Barrett,  my 
gospel  children. 

From  this  meeting  I  returned  td  Alexandria 
and  to  Fairfax,  where,  especially,  about  Fall's 
church,  I  had  some  precious  and  soul  reviv- 
ing meetings. 

About  the  1 6th  of  October,  I  went  forward 
to  Shenandoah  county.  On  the  19th  I  arrived 
at  Wm .  Smith's,  on  Cedar  creek.  My  road 
was  exceeding  muddy ;  my  horse  was  poor  and 
small.  Twice  I  had  to  prize  my  gig  out  of  the 
mire.  My  money  gave  out,  and  I  had  to  beg: 
a  night's  lodging  at  an  inn.  1  preached  at 
Smith's,  Beohm's,  and  in  Stoverstown,  to  large 
audiences.  At  Beohm's  I  held  a  communion,, 
and  introduced  washing  of  feet  among  the 
brethren.  The  work  of  the  Lord  prospered* 
Near  Stoverstown  I  baptised  eight  persons  in 
the  presence  of  a  weeping  multitude. 

Thence  I  went  to  Winchester,  and  preached 
.n  the  Presbyterian  meeting  house.  From  this 
olace  I  v/ent  on  and  preached  on  the  3d  Sun- 
day in  Nov.  at  Mr.  Rittenour's,  to  a  few  peo~ 
ole,  not  much  softer  than  stones.  Here,  for 
>he  first  time,  I  saw  her,  who  afterwards  be* 
tame  my  wife.  Thence  1  preached  in  Shenan- 
ioah.  indifferent  place?,  till  the  first  of  Detf* 


TO 

I  then  returned  to  Fairfax  county.  I  held 
meetings  in  different  places  till  the  23d.  I 
then  went  to  Alexandria.  I  left  word  with  a 
friend,  that  when  R.  F.  Ferguson  came  on,  he 
should  be  directed  to  find  me  at  brother  Gun- 
nel's, in  Fairfax. 

December  26th,  brother  F.  came  to  me.  We 
tarried  in  the  neighborhood  eight  days,  and 
preached  at  several  places,  and  saw  some  ap- 
pearancesthat  good  was  done  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord.  Brother  F.  is  now  only  an  exho&- 
ter.  Thence  we  returned  for  Shenandoah. 
The  third  day  we  suffered  extremely  by  the 
cold  winds,  ice  and  snow.  After  travelling  30 
milos,  sometime  in  the  night,  we  came  to  M, 
Rittenour's,  in  Frederick  county,  hungry, 
weary  and  almost  frozen.  The  family  was 
very  kind,  and  the  affectionate  attention  paid 
me  by  Christiana,  created  in  me  a  fond  attach- 
ment. 

I  preached  in  Shenandoah  and  Frederick 
counties  in  a  number  of  places.  At  M.  Ritte- 
nour's, after  preaching  a  few  times,  the  work 
of  the  Lord  revived.  In  the  space  of  two 
months,  about  sixty-five  persons  had  professed 
to  be  converted,  and  about  seventy-two  1  bao- 
tised  in  the  neighborhood.    During  this  time. 


77 


in  other  places  the  work  of  the  Lorn*  revived  *r 
several  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
and  I  baptised  them. 

On  the  third  Sunday  of  February,  I  attended 
at  the  Round  hill,  with  a  large  audience.  A. 
Mr.  M.  Pry  (a  Methodist  preacher)  had  put  in 
an  anpointment  at  the  same  time  and  place. 
He  told  me  he  intended  to  preach,  and  then 
hold  class  meeting.  I  saw  he  was  for  an  on  po- 
sition. I  told  the  people  that  all  who  wished  to 
hear  me,  should  follow  me  to  brother  Carter's. 
The  people  all  followed  me,  but  a  few,  with 
whom  he  neither  preached,  nor  held  class  meet- 
ing, as  I  was  told. 

March  21st  1812,  I  proposed,  for  the  first 
time,  the  subject  of  marriage  to  Christiana 
Rittenour.  I  told  her  that  if  she  was  not  pre- 
pared  to  srive  me  a  decisive  answer,  she  mieht 
consider  on  the  subject  one  week.  Her  an- 
swer  was  deferred.  In  our  next  interview,  our 
marriage  was  decided  on.  It  was  agreeable  to 
her  parents. 

April  5th  1812.  On  Sunday  evening  at  can- 
dlelight, in  the  house  of  Michael  Rittenour,  I 
was  married  to  his  daughter  Christiana.  About 
this  time,it  was  reported  -hat  I  had  a  wife  in 
(te  state  of  Ohio,  and  many  other  things  prej- 


78 


odicial  to  ray  character.  I  continued  to  preach 
in  the  regions  round,  until  April  30th,  with  un- 
wearied dilligence ;  suffering  much  persecution 
and  opposition ;  and  the  Lord  abundantly 
blessed  my  feeble  labors,  to  the  comfort  and  to 
the  salvation  of  many  souls. 

April  30th,  1812,  I  left  my  father-in-law's— 
my  wife  with  me,  and  started  for  N.  Carolina. 
I  and  brother  Ferguson  now  parted.  He  was 
to  stay  in  the  regions  round  here,  to  attend  to 
the  work  of  the  ministry.  The  first  Sunday  in 
May,  I  preached  in  Fall's  church,  in  Fairfax 
county,  and  then  at  different  places  in  the 
neighborhood,  to  attentive  and  some  seriously 
affected  audiences.  Thence  in  Alexandria* 
Ocquecon,  Dumfrees,  Stafford  Court  house, 
and  Fredericksburg.  In  this  last  place  I  put 
Up  with  my  kind  friend,  C.  Clark,  a  Christian 
preacher.  Thence  to  Wm.  Guiry's.  He  is  a 
man  of  great  natural  and  acquired  abilities — 
has  been  of  great  popularity  and  usefulness. 
But  I  am  afraid  he  is  indulging  too  much  in  the 
vanities  of  this  world.  Here  I  was  detained 
three  days,  by  a  great  fall  of  rain.  After  leav- 
ing this  place,  in  going  a  few  miles,  I  came  to 
a  creek  that  was  yet  full  and  very  rapid.  Fear- 
ing to  venture  ia  the  water  with  the  gig,  I 


ta 


loosed  the  hor?e,  and  took  my  wife  behind  me., 
and  ventured  in.  The  horse  was  directly 
borne  down  by  the  current,  below  the  fording 
place,  and  my  wife  fell  off  the  horse  into  the 
stream!  With  much  difficulty  I  saved  her 
from  drowning,  and  brought  her  to  the  shore, 
I  then  hitched  my  horse  into  the  gig  and  drove 
in ;  but  about  the  middle  of  the  stream,  one 
wheel  hitched  against  a  rock,  and  the  horse, 
in  drawing,  broke  the  harness,  went  on,  and 
left  the  gig  and  its  contents  in  the  stream.  It 
was  with  hazard  and  difficulty  that  I  finally 
extricated  all  from  the  water!  Leaving  this 
place,  we  presently  came  to  another  stream, 
more  large  and  dangerous  than  the  other.  On 
the  bank,  we  came  out  of  the  gig,  and  immedi- 
ately the  horse  became  frightened,  and  took  to 
the  stream  ;  a  number  of  books  and  some  other 
articles  were  tossed  out  of  the  gig,  and  lost  in 
the  water,  and  we  were  left  behind!  I  then 
waded  and  swam  the  stream— overtook  my 
horse,  and  with  much  trouble  I  brou-ht  all  over 
safely.  I  then  went  on,  and  tarried  two  days 
at  old  brother  Gwatkin's*  Here  I  preached  to 
a  weening  audience,  and  felt  much  better  than 
I  did  six  years  ago,  when  I  was  here,  soon  after 
I  began  to  try  to  preach.    Then  I  was  despised 


80 


and  rejected.  Here  I  was  offered  fifty  acres 
of  land,  with  a  good  house  on  it,  &c.  ill  would 
settle  myself  and  take  charge  of  the  church  in 
that  place. 

Thence  I  went  on  and  preached  in  Rich- 
mond ;  and  at  brother  Gill's  a  Christian  prea- 
cher, near  Petersburg.  Here  I  met  brother  Z. 
Rolloway,  my  son  in  the  gospel,  who  had  made 
great  improvement. 

From  this  place,  1  went  up  the  country, 
preaching  almost  every  day.  Crossed  Roan- 
oke river  and  came  into  N.  Carolina,  and  call- 
ed at  brother  Moss's.  I  preached  at  Liberty 
meeting  house,  to  an  attentive  and  serious 
congregation,  and  was  publicly  opposed  by 
brother  T.  Morris,  a  Christian  preacher.  As  he 
was  an  aged  man,  I  made  no  rer>ly.  Thence 
to  the  White  plains,  and  at  several  other  pla- 
ces to  Hillsborough.  From  this  place  I  went 
on  to  my  mother's.  I  felt  thankful  to  my  hea- 
venly Father,  that  I  had  been  spared  during  an 
absence  of  eighteen  months.  In  this  time,  I 
travelled  abou-  seven  thousand  miles,  preached 
four  hundred  and  sixty  times,  and  saw  about 
ninety-two  souls  delivered  from  the  power  of 
darkless,  professedly  through  my  iDstrume^ 
fetlity !  S 


tfl 


Here  I  left  my  wife,  and  travelled  through 
IhiilfoH,  Stokes,  Iredcl  and  Surry  counties,  in 
P  iroiina  ;  and  Grayson  and  Wythe  coun- 
ties, in  Virginia.  In  this  route,  I  saw  and  felt 
some  precious  seasons  of  spiritual  joy  and  -^as- 
perity. In  Grayson,  I  was  rejoiced  to  see  that 
a  -reat  reformation  had  taken  place  amongst 
the  people,  since  I  first  visited  them  with  the 
gospel.  Thence  I  returned  on  the  same  route, 
and  arrived  safely  at  my  mother's,  where  my 
wife  was, having  been  absent  about  four  weeks, 
travelled  about  four  hundred  miles,  and  preach- 
ed thirty  times. 

Here  I  bought  fifty  acres  of  land,  and  began 
to  improve  on  it.  So  soon  as  I  became  locat- 
ed, meeting  house  doors  were  shut,  and  a  furi- 
ous opposition,  by  the  Methodists,  Presbyteri 
ans  and  Baptists,  raged  against  me!  I  had  sev- 
eral places  erected  in  the  woods  to  preach  at, 
but  some  of  the  public  speakers  of  the  sects, 
fearing,  as  they  thought,  I  would  lead  the  peo- 
ple astray,  frequently  met  me  at  those  places, 
and  opposed  me,  to  the  creat  disturbance  of 
the  congregation.  It  was  not  an  uncommon 
thinr  now,  for  a  preacher  to  say,  while  in  his 
pulpit,  of  me,  that  T  ouejht  to  be  put  into  pri~ 
(sou — should  be  closed  in  a  dungeon — should 
D  2 


not  be  suffered  to  preach,  and  one,  that  I,  with 
all  ray  books  ought  to  be  burnt!!  J  now  had 
reason  to  believe,  that  if  the  laws  of  our  coun- 
try favored  the  blood -spilling  spirit  of  Anti- 
Christ,  the  former  times  of  strife  and  venge- 
ance would  soon  roll  on  again,  when  one  pro- 
fessed christian,  could  triumphantly  cut  off  the 
head  of  another,  and  rejoice  to  see  a  brother 
dissenter,  expire  in  the  flames,  if  he  should  not 
subscribe  to  his  human-made  creed,  and  re- 
ceive all  his  unscriptural  dogmas!!  When  I 
would  go  to  the  meetings  of  those  people,  I 
could  hear  them  pray  for  christian  union — tell 
us  to  love  one  another — could  hear  them 
shout  and  praise  God,  kc.  How  inconsistent! 
What  disparity  between  example  and  precept ! 
"What  hypocrisy!  How  degrading  to  the  cau^e 
of  Christ 

About  the  first  of  January,  1813, 1  commenc 
ed  teaching  school,  for  the  term  of  three 
months.  We  were  then  living  in  a  new  house 
unfinished,  the  chimney  up  only  as  high  as  the 
nrst  story.  About  the  10th,  a  furious  storm 
came  up  in  the  night.  The  wind  came  down 
the  chimney  with  great  force,  and  blew  the  fire 
over  the  floor,  and  under  the  house,  among  the 
pine  shavings.     The  wind  blowing  in  a  whir 


«3 


■burst  the  doors  open,  and  while  the  lightnings 
were  flashing,  thundeis  roaring,  trees  crashing, 
and  our  hearts  failing,  the  fire  was  rapidly 
kindling  in  and  under  the  floor!  Tha 
house  withstood  the  fury  of  the  wind,  and  by 
hard  exertion,  we  extinguished  the  fire  without 
suffering  serious  loss. 

About  the  first  of  February,  I  was  taken 
with  the  white  Swelling  in  my  right  shoulder. 
I  was  soon  unable  to  move  my  arm,  or  hand, 
without  the  aid  of  the  other ;  and  the  pain  was 
incessant  and  inexpressibly  severe,  for  the  space 
of  seven  weeks.  About  this  time,  there  was  a 
report  in  circulation,  and  believed  by  some, 
that  I  was  not  married,  but  had  ran  away 
with  Mr.  Rittenour's  daughter,  without  his 
knowledge  or  consent;  and  it  was  thought 
that  my  affliction  was  a  judgment  sent  on  me, 
to  punish  my  wickedness.  This  was  the  reli- 
gious effusion  of  Sectarian  zeal.  O!  how  h> 
tolerant ! 

On  the  10th  of  May,  I  and  my  wife  started 
for  her  father's,  in  Virginia.  I  preached  seve- 
ral times  on  the  way,  and  arrived  there  in  ten 
days;  having  passed  Casewell  Court  house, 
Danville,  Pittsylvania,  Major  Ward's,  Lynch- 
burg, Amherst   Court  house,  Rockfisl*  Gap^ 


84 


feesletown,  New  Market,  Woodstock,  and 
-town.  I  r reached  at  my  father-in-law's 
to  a  people,  with  whom  I  had  formerly  seen 
and  felt  glorious  times,  in  the  work  of  the  Lord* 
Thence  I  j  reached  at  Crooked  Run,  Newtown, 
Stoverstown,  Round  Hill,  Timber  Ridge,  &c. 
During  this  time,  I  was  solicited  to  take  my 
residence  in  Frederick  county,  Va.,  to  which 
I  consented.  I  then  borrowed  money  from  the 
Bank  of  Winchester,  to  settle  my  business  in 
Carolina,  whither  I  started  from  my  father-in- 
law's,  on  the  10th;  leaving  my  wife  with  her 
parents. 

I  settled  all  my  concerns  in  Carolina,  only 
■with  my  brother  Jacob,  to  whom  lowed  one 
hundred  dollars ;  and  that  I  should  be  under  no 
censure  by  him,  1  °:ave  him  possession,  and  a 
deed  of  my  land,  till  1  should  pay  him;  with 
the  exr.res*  understanding,  that  he  should  not 
charge  interest  on  my  obligation,  nor  I  claim 
any  rent  for  my  premises;  and  that,  when  I 
should  pay  him,  thisbarrain  was  to  be  null. 

On  the  10th  of  July,   I  started  for  Virginia, 

and  ■  reached  in  several  places  on  my  way.    On 

th  I  arrived  at  my  father-in-law's,  and 

£  my  wife  well.  An 

forth  a  daughter,  k  we  najned  her  Sophrenia, 


i  shortly  purchased  a  lot  in  Kernstown,  neas 
Winchester,  and  situated  there  in  October  fol- 
lowing. In  the  intermediate  time,  I  continued 
to  preach,  in  various  places  in  Frederick, 
Hampshire  and  Shenandoah  counties.  I  bap- 
tised some  young  converts,  and  met  with  some 
opposition. 

In  September  I  went  to  Carolina.  Brother 
I.  Ellis  of  Frederick  county  went  with  me.  On 
the  way,  at  Major  Ward's  I  met  with  a  man 
who  said  he  was  a  Believing  Jew.  He  wears 
no  hat — has  no  name,  neither  personal  nor 
professional.  Never  rides.  Dresses  in  a  plain 
robe.  Preaches  repentance.  Remembers  Ma- 
ry in  every  discourse.  Holds  no  controversy0 
Takes  no  money,  neither  does  he  use  any. 
Cuts  neither  hair  nor  beard.  Professes  to  fol- 
low Christ  in  the  regeneration ;  nor  will  hf  own 
any  thing  in  the  world.  He  is  an  aged  man ;  a 
great  scholar,  versed  in  several  languages:  the 
Assyrian,  Hebrew,  Creek,  Latin,  French,  Ger- 
man, English,  &c.  Profound  in  reason;  ex- 
pert in  the  Scriptures;  plain  and  sublime  in 
his  language.  Decent,  modest,  and  humble  in 
his  manners.  Solid  and  convincing-  in  his  dis- 
courses. Familiar  and  naturally  fascinating 
in  private  conversation. 


86 


October  14th,  1813, 1  moved  and  settled  my- 
self and  family,  in  Kernstown,  Frederick  coun-. 
ty,  Va.  At  this  place  I  commenced  teaching 
school.  My  gospel  labors  were  now  circum- 
scribed, chiefly,  to  Sabbath  days.  The  space 
of  a  few  months,  I  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  domes- 
tic and  rural  life.  I  experienced  a  calm,  which 
has  since  seemed  to  be  a  prelude  to  a  longer 
and  a  more  violent  storm  of  life,  than  I  had 
ever  before  experienced. 

About  the  first  of  June,  1814,  I  was  led  into 
a  more  serious,  honest,  deliberate  and  general 
consideration  of  religion,  and  its  various  du- 
ties, than  had  ever  before  revolved  in  my  mind. 
I  now  contemplated  religion  to  be  entirely  spir- 
itual and  pure.  I  was  rationally  convinced, 
that  the  surrounding  sects  were  deluded,  and, 
that  I  was  a  better  imitator  of  them,  than  of 
the  precept  and  example  of  the  meek  and  low- 
ly Jesus !  It  was  shown  to  me,  that  I  had  grea- 
ter things  to  do,  than  I  yet  had  done,  and  a 
heavier  cross  to  bear.  I  would  have  to  bear  a 
full  and  faithful  testimony  against  Anti-Christ, 
and  against  the  pride  and  fashion  of  this  world ; 
both  by  precept  and  example.  The  article, 
.  and  the  manner  of  dress,  came  into  view,  and 
was  considered  no  small  thin*.     A  white  dress. 


87 


i  bo  frequently  mentioned  in  the  Scripture,  indi- 
\  cative  of  the  bride  having  made  herself  ready 
for  the  marriage ;  and  of  the  innocency  and 
i  purity  which  should  characterize  every  minis- 
ter of  Christ,  was  the  one  evidently  dictated 
i  for  me.  My  mind  was  seriously  exercised,  and 
!  daily  oppressed  with  what  I  took  to  be  the 
"burden  of  the  Lord."  My  soul  became  like 
the  troubled  ocean. — My  hours  of  sleep  were 
disturbed,  and  the  business  of  the  day,  often 
interrupted  by  the  agitation  of  my  feelings. 
My  flesh  grew  lean,  and  my  appetite  failed.  I 
was  impressed  with  the  duty  of  preaching,  af- 
ter the  example  found  in  Mark  6th,  and  Luke 
10th  ;  and  that  I  should  deny  the  present  fash- 
ion of  dress,  both  as  relates  to  cut  and  color, 
and,  particularly  to  refuse  black.  I  was  im- 
pressed to  wear  white,  to  represent  my  travel- 
ling in  great  tribulation,  to  meet  with  those 
who  are  clothed  in  white  around  the  throne  of 
God. 

October  29th,  1814, 1  removed  my  family  to 
Shenandoah  county,  near  Woodstock,  and 
commenced  a  school  there,  the  term  of  six 
months.  About  the  first  of  December,  I  receive 
ed  a  letter  from  Carolina,  stating  that  my 
brother  had  sold  my  possessions  there,  and  re* 


88 


tained  my  note !  O !  the  treachery  and  decen* 
tion  of  man! 

Finally,  after  many  hard  struggles  of  mind, 
I  gave  up  to  obey  the  duties  made  plain  to  me. 
I  promised  my  Saviour  if  he  would  be  with  me, 
and  prepare  my  way  before  me,  that  I  would 
follow  him  in  the  mortifying  path  which  he 
had  manifested  to  me,  though  it  should  draw 
on  me  the  scorn,  derision  and  contempt  of  all 
the  world. 

I  sold  my  possessions  in  Kernstown,my  horse, 
&c.  and  prepared  to  travel  on  foot  to  preach 
the  gospel.  Before  my  school  expired,  I  trav- 
elled a  short  route  in  my  new  mode  and  man- 
ner, and  on  my  return,  my  feet  were  very  sore 
and  blistered.  An  old  professor  said,  "well 
Thomas,  won't  this  beat  you  out  of  your  fool- 
ish notion  of  following  Christ.2"  I  told  him  I 
thought  not. 

July  6th,  1815, 1  gave  my  family  to  God  and 
to  the  word  of  his  grace,  and  started,  as  a 
stranger,  and  yet  well  known,  as  a  deceiver* 
and  yet  true,  to  preach  the  everlasting  gospel 
to  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth.  I  went  on 
through  Frederick  and  Hampshire  counties^ 
and  returned  a<rain,  having  been  about  thir- 
teen days,  preached  twenty -three  times?  and 


89 


walked  130  miles.  I  was  now  celebrated  by 
the  name  of  crazy  Thomas.  In  the  manner  I 
travelled,  I  discovered  the  pride  and  hypocrisy 
of  professors'  hearts,  and  saw  that  they  were 
further  from  the  pure  gospel  than  I  had  ever 
before  anticipated ! 

July  21st,  my  wife  brought  forth  a  daughter, 
and  we  named  her  Philomela. 

July  29th,  I  started  on  a  long  journey  to- 
wards the  South.  1  preached  in  Mount  Pleas- 
ant, where,  as  I  heard  some  years  afterwards, 
there  was  a  vain,  fashionable  young  lady,  bro't 
under  conviction,  and  sought  the  Lord  until 
she  found  him.  I  preached  in  New  Market* 
on  Smith's  creek,  Harrison burii;,  Miller's  Iron 
works,  and  in  several  places  onward  to  Staun» 
ton,  where  I  met  with  a  kind  reception  among 
the  Methodists;  but  I  smarted  for  it  afterwards. 
I  passed  through  Augusta  and  Rockbridge 
counties,  where  I  experienced  sufferings  and 
persecutions  among  the  Presbyterians.  At 
Cop's  meeting  house,  in  Botetourt  county,  I 
preached  several  times,  where  a  reformation 
:ommenced.  Here  I  obtained  the  name  of 
;he  Pilgrim,  preacher;  which  has  exceeded aS 
rtbers  given  me* 


9$ 

Thenco  I  preached  in  Fincastle,  in  the  Me- 
thodist meeting  house.  Some  of  the  Metho- 
dists shouted,  and  sinners  wept.  From  this 
place  I  directed  my  course  over  rugged  and 
towering  mountains,  to  Craig's  creek.  On 
this  creek,  I  preached  in  several  places,  to  peo- 
ple apparently  as  hard  and  barren  as  the 
mountains  that  surrounded  them.  I  observed 
a  lamentable  falling  away  among  the  people, 
from  the  cause  of  religion,  since  I  last  visited 
them  seven  years  past ! 

From  here,  I  went  a  pathway,  over  an  ex- 
ceeding high  mountain,  to  Sinking  creek.  On 
the  summit  of  which,  I  had  an  ample  display 
of  nature's  wildest  and  sublimest  features.  On 
Sinking  creek  I  preached  at  J.  Webb's.  Hav- 
ing: left  this  place,  a  violent  thunderstorm  over- 
took me  in  the  wild  and  strange  woods ;  a  great 
rain  fell,  and  I  became  very  wet.  I  came  on 
to  Spruce  run,  where  night  met  me.  She  with 
sable  mantle,  wrapped  the  high  raised  moun- 
tain's top  in  lonesome  darkness,  and  whelmed 
the  lowly  sunken  dell,  into  which  I  was  descen- 
ding, in  thicker  gloom.  In  this  solitary  wild> 
hungry,  wet  and  faint,  I  called  in  at  a  cabin 
and  tarried  during  the  night.  But  alas!  I 
found  nothing  to  satisfy  my  hunger  but  cucunv 


VI 


jera  without  salt.  Here  nature  represents  a 
MCturesque  and  retired  scene,  well  calculated 
to  inspire  the  poet's  muse,  and  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  philosopher.  Next  morning  I  went 
on  my  way,  and  in  going  a  few  miles,  I  came 
to  New  river.  1  had  some  difficulty  in  crossing 
it.  1  travelled  some  distance  up  the  river. 
Here  nature  is  clothed,  not  in  garlands  and 
roses,  smiling  in  perenial  and  never  fading  ver- 
iure,  but  stands  frowning  in  the  most  sublime 
md  majestic  attire.  Here  Walker's  mountain 
(as  it  is  called)  to  all  appearance,  by  some  tre- 
nendous  catastrophe,  has  been  cleft  asunder^ 
rom  base  to  summit,  exhibiting  towery  ro^ks, 
lonesome  and  far  projected  pinacles,  while  pile 
ipon  pile,  add  wonder  to  the  romantic  figure! 
Through  this  mighty  chasm,  runs  the  roaring 
river,  while  foam,  wave  and  tumultuous  fury, 
perfects  one  of  the  grandest  and  most  majestic 
Pictures  of  nature.  My  path  led  along  the  ri- 
rer's  brink,  over  and  between  the  dangerous 
ocks,  that  pile  the  rugged  way.  Passing  this 
Dlace,  1  was  introduced  into  a  large  and  fertile 
oottom,  where  1  appeased  my  hungry  appetite 
on  May  apples,  as  they  are  called,  having  ate 
lothing  for  nearly  forty-eirfit  hours,  and  hav- 
ng  walked  about  fifty  mile?.     Late  in  the 


evening,  tired  and  hungry  I  name  to  J.  Toolings 
er%,  where  I  was  refreshed  and  comforted  Nem 
daj  (Sabbath)  I  met  with  a  Mr  Morris,  a  Metho- 
dist oreacher,  at  Page's  meeting  house.  The 
preacher  objected  to  my  preaching  in  the  house. 
By  the  request  of  the  people,  I  preached  to  them 
in  the  woods 

Thence  in  Newbern  on  Pea  creek,  fee  passing 
through  Montgomery,  Wythe  and  Grayson  couq- 
ties.  pr*>arhing  more  than  once  a  day  generally 
to  large  congregations.  From  Grayson  county  I 
went  into  N  Carolina:  preached  at  the  bouse  of 
Gov  Henderson.  Thence  onward  to  the  Mora 
vian  towns,  where  I  was  kindly  received  and  ad- 
mitted to  preach  in  their  meetinghouses  Thence 
in  different  places  on  the  Yadkin  river,  and  near 
to  Salisbury. 

Thence  I  turned  my  course,  and  retraced  on  my 
journey,  till  I  came  to  Newbern  in  Montgomery 
county,  Va.  Thence  1  went  to  Montgomery  Court 
house;  and  while  I  was  passing  the  street,  a  man 
hailed  me — said  he  had  heard  of  me  and  wished 
me  to  stop  and  preach  for  them.  I  did  so.  Thence 
on  Roanoke,  I  preached  to  an  audience  who  had 
gathered  to  raise  a  house.  Walking  a  log  over 
this  stream.  J  fell  into  the  water,  and  was  under 
Che  necessity  of  swimming  out.  In  Salem.  Bote- 
tou-t  count}  T  was  kindly  received,  and  I  preach- 
ed twice  in  the  Methodist  meeting  house.     It  was 


93 


•'eportecl  here  and  believed  by  some,  that  I  wa8 
'idij  .  and  had  ran  away  from  my  family.  A  man 
iold  me  that  he  was  then  immediately  from  New- 
own,  near  my  father-in  law'?,  and  he  was  there 
old  by  a  Methodist,  that  my  father-in-law,  belier- 
ng  1  never  would  return  .  weil  with  his  waggon 
nd  moved  my  family  to  his  house  ,  to  take  care  of 
hem!  This  gave  me  some  uneasiness.  Thence  I 
>reached  near  Amsterdam  and  in  Fincastle.  Here 
rom  the  post  office,  I  lifted  a  letter  fiom  m)  wife, 
vhich  gave  me  great  consolation,  as  it  unwittingly 
contradicted  the  above  report. 
Thence  I  went  on  to  Cops,  Pattonsburg  and 
t  different  places  in  Rockbridge.  Here  I  travel- 
ed one  whole  day  in  the  rain,  and  ate  nothing, 
kbout dark  1  was  admitted  to  take  shelter  in  the 
ouse  of  a  Presbyterian;  but  he  gave  me  nothing 
d  eat.  Next  morning  he  charged  me  thirty -three 
ent>,  and  a  stranger  who  was  present  iri  time  of 
eckoning.  paid  it  for  me.  I  went  nine  miles  to 
rother  Menga's  in  Augusta  county  .  and  was  a- 
ain  provided  with  a  breakfast,  having  walked  40 
lile*  and  fasted  thirty  six  hours  I  preached  in 
liddlebrook  and  in  Staunton,  where  I  found  some 
lethorlists  had  turned  again?t  me.  Thence  I 
reached  on  North  river.  Harrisonburg,  New  Mar- 
et.  Mount  Pleasant;  and  on  the  2G t h  of  October 
preached  at  brother  S.  Hickle's  in  Shenandoah, 
'here  my  family  met  me, 


84 

On  the  28th,  T  arrived  at  my  own  dwelling',  at 
preached  to  a  Urge  audience.  I  felt  great  consi 
lation  in  my  soul,  and  very  thankful  to  God  on  tl 
occasion-— that  I  had  been  preserved  through  m 
ny  trials  and  dangers ,  and  was  permitted  to  see  ir 
family  and  friends  again  in  health,  in  this  land 
changes. 

In  this  journey  I  was  absent  ninety-two  daj 
preached  ninety-seven  times,  and  walked  upwan 
of  eleven  hundred  miles — endured  many  hard  ti 
als  and  difficulties—  delivered  from  some  immi 
ent  dangers — endured  much  persecution — sa 
that  some  professors  were  convinced  of  their  e 
rors — some  sinners  convinced  of  their  sins,  ai 
brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

I  preached  a  few  times  in  my  neighborhoo 
Thence  into  Frederick  county ,  at  and  about  n 
father-in-law's,  where  I  was  yet  known  by  tl 
name  of  *craz\  Thomas !.r'  Some  said  it  was  adi 
honor  to  the  gospel,  for  a  preacher  to  wear  su< 
a  garb  as  I'  did  ;  though  it  wa«  white  and  general 
cleans  Some  said  it  was  scriptural  and  the  mo 
suitable.  Lo!  I  found  again,  what  1  had  loi 
known,  that  people  would  differ  in  their  opinion 
'Thence  into  Hampshire,  and  from  there  I  retur 
ed  home.  I  was  absent  four  weeks,  preache 
twenty-nine  time*,  and  walked  upwards  ofan  hu 
dred  miles,  the  most  of  the  distance  in  fnow  af 


f  now  commenced  teaching  school  a  term  of 
hree  months.  During-  which  time,  I  preached 
vequently  in  the  neighborhood — at  Hottel's 
chool  house.  Squire  Hottel  tried  to  prevent  me 
rom  preaching  there,  and  disturbed  the  congre- 
nation;  but  did  not  accomplish  his  purpose. 

About  the  la§t  of  February  my  school  expired, 
nd  my  family  was  received,  for  a  time,  at  my  fa* 
iherin-law's.  I  preached  frequently  in  the  nefgb- 
k)rhood  ,  and  baptised  some,  and  a  few  professed 
ieligkm 

April  14th,  1816, 1  went  on  my  way,  directing 
ny  course  to  Maryland  In  Martinsburg  and  ia 
►hepherdstown,  in  Virginia.  For  Sharpsburg, 
tone  meeting  house,  Funkstown,  Hagerstown  in 
Id.  I  preached  to  large  congregations.  Thence 
(returned  to  my  father  inlaw's  on  the  same  route, 
[nd  found  my  family  well. 

i  In  this  journey  I  was  absent  thirteen  days,  had 
reached  sixteen  times  and  walked  upwards  of 
me  hundred  miles.  I  felt  joyful  in  spreading  the 
gospel,  while  many  seemed  to  feel  its  power.  And 
[aough  I  endured  some  difficulties,  my  soul  tri- 
umphed in  the  God  of  my  salvation. 
\  April  23th,  I  directed  my  course  towards  the 
Northern  hills.  I  preached  at  the  Round  hill?,  at 
irother  Hawkin's  on  North  river.  Parks'  Valley, 
>orks  of  Capon,  at  Sandy  ridge,  brother  Hulls, 
rotber  T.  jfresmith's ,  three  times  in  Jarrsttstown 


96 


Sfcdin  Burklestown:  where  a  Methodic  nreacher, 
in  nisseroi  n.  ridiculed  rue.  and  though  I  wa*  pre- 
sent, he  told  the  people  I  was  ignorant,  supersti- 
tion* .  enthusiastic,  &c.  and  thatthev  ought  n  t  to 
hear  me  preach  !  The  people  did  not  take  this  for 
gospel  Thence  I  returned  to  mv  family.  I  had 
been  absent  fifteen  days,  preached  seventeen  times)] 
suffered  some  necessity  and  persecution,  and  saw. 
some  j  jj'fbl  prospects  of  the  work  of  the  Lord. 

May  Mth  I  directed  my  course  up  the  country. 
I  was  absent 24  days,  preached  32  times,  baptised 
three  young  converts  who  professed  religion  un. 
der  my  ministry,  and  walked  about  one  hundred* 
and  sixty  miles, 

Thence  I  preached  in  a  number  of  places  in 
Frederick  and  Shenandoah  counties,  and  baptised 
five  who  had  lately  professed  religion,  near  my  fa- 
ther-in-law's. 

On  the  10th  of  July  I  purchased  a   horse,  as  I 
had  found  it  impracticable  to  convey   my    books*-, 
which  I  had  printed,  on  foot. 

July  13th.  I   directed    my    course  for  Philadel- 
phia    On  my    way    I  preached    at    JarrettstowBJ 
Bunkershill,  Bucklestown,  Martinsbvrg  and  Shep-# 
herdstown,  Va.     fa    Sharpsburg,    Stone  meeting: 
hou-e,    Funk-town,  and  at  other    places    in    .Md. 
Thence  in  several  places  to  Philadelphia.      In  the  : 
city    I    preached    several    times.      The   C 
brethren  now  have  a  spacious  and  decent  bjicft  ; 


97 

fneeting  house  on  Christian  street.  Thence  to 
the  Great  Valley,  and  from  there  to  Delaware, 
near  Wilmington,  where  I  met  with  two  of  my 
gospel  children,  not  known  to  me  before.  They 
were  born  of  God  five  years  ago  aud  are  yet 
iaithful  and  zealous  in  the  cause. 

Thence  near  Newport,  Christiana,  Newark, 
fee.  and  returned  to  Philadelphia.  I  preach- 
.'d  several  times  and  administered  the  Lord's 
Supper  to  the  brethren,  in  Mount  Zion  meeting 
louse. 

Thence  I  returned,  and  arrived  where  my 
amily  dwelt,  on  the  6th  of  September;  found 
ay  children  in  health,  but  my  wife  was  in  a 
ickly  state. 

In  this  journey,  I  was  absent  about  seven 
feeks  had  travelled  about  700  miles,  and 
reached  51  times.  1  saw  some  good  attend 
y  labors — met  with  some  severe  trials — suf- 
red  persecution  and  distress,  and  wras  ena- 
led  to  glory  in  tribulation. 
About  this  time,  having  a  notion  of  remov- 
Kg  my  family  to  the  state  of  Ohio,  my  broth- 
r-in-law,  Jacob  Little*,  having  thesame inten- 
on,  we  made  a 'sale  of  our  property.  I  then 
ent  into  Maryland, by  special  request,  and 
reached  at  Antitem  Iron  works,  and  at 
E 


95 

Keedy-s  meeting  house,  &c.  and  returned  xu 
five  days,  having  preached  eleven  times. 

About  the  15th  of  September,  Jacob  Little 
started  for  the  West,  taking  my  things,  which 
I  had  reserved  for  house  -keeping,  with  him. 
I  intended  to  follow  him,  with  my  family,! 
when  I  should  return  from  another  journey. 

September  29th,  1816, 1  started  with  my  fa-1 
mily,  in  a  little  carriage,  for  the  Western  parts 
of  Virginia.  I  preached  in  Stoverstown,  Wood-j 
stock,  Mount  Pleasant,  New  Market,  Harri- 
sonburgh,  Staunton,  brother  Menga's  Pattons- 
burg,  Cop's,  Pincastle,  Salem,  Montgomery 
Court  house,  Newbern,  Pea  creek,  and .  at 
Wythe  Court  house,  where  some  of  the  rabble 
stole  my  carriage,  run  it  half  a  mile  out  of 
town  and  left  it  standing  in  a  man's  yard.  I; 
then  went  into  Grayson  county  and  preached 
in  different  places. 

Almost  five  years  before  this  time,  I  hadT 
while  living  in  N.  Carolina,  endorsed  a  note 
of  seventy-five  dollars,  for  my  brother  Jacob, 
which  1  thought,  and  had  understood,  had; 
been  paid  long  since,  having  passed  several 
transfers,  was  here  presented  to  me  for  pay-) 
ment.  I  immediately  paid  it!  Thi> 
hard  stroke. 


99 


Thence  I  returned  nearly  on  the  same  route, 
until  I  arrived  at  my  father-in-law's.  In  this 
journey  I  was  absent  about  seven  weeks,  .prea- 
ched forty  times,  met  with  some  hard  trials, 
and  traveled  about  seven  hundred  miles. 

I  now  was  informed  that  my  brother  Jacob 
had  been  here  and  had  sold  my  note,  which 
I  he  held  against  me,  to  D.  Faucett,  and  that 
'  the  man  expected  immediate  payment !  Alas  I 
I  thought  I,  this  is  surely  the  climax  of  infidelity 
land  of  injustice. 

Now  all  my  calculations  and  arrangements 
f  were  frustrated.  I  went  to  see  the  owner  of 
1  the  note,  and  found  that  it  was  transferred  to 
Col.  J.  Gilkeson,  who  was  kind  to  me,  in  tins 
case,  by  waiting-  six  months  for  payment.  1 
now  could  not  go  on  to  the  West,  as  I  intend- 
ed, in  consequence  of  this  debt.  I  had  sold 
out,  and  sent  to  the  West,  my  household  pro- 
perty, and  had  nothing  wherewith  to  keep 
house. 

Previous  to  this,  D.  Hess,  of  Maryland,  had 
invited  me  to  bring  m}r  family  to  his  ••• 
thatl  rai^ht  preach  the  more  in  his  region;  but 
at  that  time  I  thought  it  would  not  suit  my  ar 
ranger'  K     -  to  comply  witii  his  request. 


100 

Was  the  only  opening:  that  I  could  see  Provi* 
dcnce  had  made  tor  me. 

December  2d,  I  arrived  with  my  family  at 
jny  friend  D.  fless's  in  Washington  county, 
Md.  We  were  received  with  aifection,  and 
treated  with  great  hospitality  and  kindness. 
For  which,  I  hope  to  feel  ever  grateful  to  him 
and  his  family;  and  pray  that  they  may  be 
amply  rewarded  in  the  great  day  of  retribu- 
tion. 

I  left  my  family  at  D.  Hess's,  and  continued 
to  preach  in  different  parts  of  Maryland — into 
Baltimore  several  times;  and  several  times  in 
different  places  in  Virginia,  until  the  27th  of 
March  1817.  Within  this  time  I  preached  74 
times,  and  travelled  about  700  miles.  I  met 
with  many  oppositions  and  persecutions  from 
the  Sectarians,  whose  interest  it  was  to  put  me 
down.  During  this  time  I  sold  a  great  many 
Hymn  books,  sermons,  and  the  "Pilgrim's 
Muse,"  which  I  had  printed. 

March  17th  1817,  My  wife  brought  forth  a 
son,  and  we  named  him  Lorenzo. 

.March  27th  1817, 1  went  on  my  way,  direct- 
ing my  course  for  the  Western  country.  I 
preached  at  my  father-in-law's  in  Frederick 
countv,  Va.. 


101 

Thence  in  Stoverstown,  Woodstock,  Mount 
(feasant,  New  Market,  l.L;rnsonburr,  Staun- 
ton, Menga's.  Thence  I  travelled  all  day  in 
the  rain.  After  night,  I  put  up  in  a  disagree- 
able cabin,  where  I  found  no  bed,  had  nothing 
to  eat,  tied  my  horse  to  a  bu?h,  where  he  re- 
mained till  morning.  At  Pattonsburg,Cop's, Fin* 
ca*tlc,  ^alein,  Montgomery  Court  house,  New* 
bern,  Saunder'son  New  river,  in  different  pla- 
ces in  Grayson  county,  Wythe  Court  house, 
where  a  man  passed  a  twenty  dollar  counter- 
feit note  on  me,  which  I  had  afterwards  crossn* 
cd  in  the  bank  of  Philadelphia. 

Thence  at  different  places  to  Abington,  and 
on  to  Bean's  Station  in  Tenn.  Large  confer 
gations  generally  attended,  and  in  some  places 
I  saw  the  work  of  the  Lord  prosper,  &  thought 
the  Lord  was  with  me. 

.  Thence  I  took  the  Kentucky  road ;  crossed 
Clinch  mountain  and  Clinch  river,  and  lay  all 
night  on  the  bank.  Here  commences  a  lone^ 
some  and  extensive  wilderness,  with  here  and 
there  acibia,  to  take  the  traveller's  money. — 
Passed  Tazewell  Court  house,  Powel's  river, 
Cumberland  Gap — a  dreary,  rugged  and  des- 
olate part  of  the  world.  A  suitable  residence^ 
anly,  for  the  venturous  hawk,  or  the  more  lofv 


i02 

ty  soaring  eagle.  O !  the  sublimity  of  nature's  ' 
works.  What  tremendous  confusion  seems  to 
spread  along  the  distant  wild.  A  thundergust 
came  up.  0!what  majestic  rumbling  in  the 
mountain  forest.  I  called  at  a  little  hut,  on 
Yellow  creek.  A  mighty  hail  came  on.  I 
came  on  to  Lexington  in  Kentucky,  where  I 
hoped  to  meet  with  friends  and  brethren ;  but . 
by  the  influence  of  brother  R.  Dooly,  my  way 
was  straightened  and  my  former  friends  treated 
me  coolly.  Thence  1  went  on  to  Cane  ridge, 
and  attended  a  meeting  of  the  Christian  breth- 
ren, a£J0>?i&ord,  where  I  wished  to  have  the. 
difficulties  settled,  but  charges  not  being  prov- 
able, the  matter  remained  where  it  had  been, 
F^mthe  conduct  of  the  brethren,  with  many 
om  I  had  formerly  enjoyed  many  happy 
seasons  and  had  parted  from  them  in  Christian 
fellowship,  I  was  left  astonished  at  the  insta- 
bility and  uncertainty  of  mortal's  friendship.  I 
was  rejected  on  the  ground  of  vile  and  found* 
less  slander ! ! 

I  found  a  friend  in  Dr.  Mitchell  and  in  a  few 
Others. 

May  8th,  as  I  was  making  my  way  to  Mayij 
ville,in  a  large  forest,  the  top  of  a  dead  tree^ 
broke  and  fell  so  6udden,  that  my  creature I 


iOJ 


being  much  frightened,  sudd  .nly  wheeled 
round  and  threw  me,  but  a  little  distance  from 
the  ponderous  limbs,  which  otherwise  would 
have  crushed  me  to  death!  I  was  somewhat 
hurt  by  the  fall,  but  felt  unspeakably  thankful 
that  my  life  was  preserved.  I  crossed  the  Ohio 
river  at  Maysville.  1  preached  in  different 
place-  in  Ohio,  and  came  and  held  meeting 
at  my  brother  Griffith's,  and  at  my  brother-in- 
law's,  Jacob  Little's,  in  Green  county.  Thence 
1  preached  in  different  places  in  the  state  of 
Ohio,  Pennsylvania  and  Maryland,  till  I  arri- 
ved where  my  family  dwelt,  which  was  on  the 
29th  of  May,  1817. 

In  this  journey,  I  was  absent  about    sixty 
.  travelled  upwards'  of  1,400  miles,  preach- 

'  ed  47  times,  expended  forty-seven  dollars,  and 
had  two  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents  given 
me.     I  met  with  necessities,  hard   trials,  and 

i  much  persecution,  and  was  sometimes  greatly 
dejected  in  my  mind,  and  disgusted  at  the  de- 
ception and  treachery  of  many  professors  of  re- 
ligion. 

June  9th,  I  and  my  family  took  our  leave  of 
our  dear  and  kind  friends  in  Maryland,  and 
on  the  1 2th,  I  arrived  at  my  father-in-law's,  in 
Frederick  county  s  Va.    I  left  my  family  here. 


104 

and  in  a  few  days  directed  my  course  for  Ma* 
ryland. 

I  preached  in  Battletown,  Charlestpwn  and 
at  Harper's  ferry  in  Virginia.  In  Pleasant 
Valley,  Middletown,  Fredericktown,  New 
Market,  Poplar  Springs,  New  Lisbon,  Hietts* 
town,  Clarksburg  and  Baltimore,  in  Mary- 
land. I  returned  on  the  same  route,  and  arri- 
red  at  my  father-in-law's  on  the  17th  of  July. 

In  this  journey  I  was  absent  twenty-eight 
days,  travelled  about  three  hundred  miles,  and 
preached  twenty-nine  times.  Congregation* 
were  generally  so  lar.re,  that  we  frequently 
had  to  sit  in  the  woods.  I  saw  great  success^ 
in  some  places,  attend  my  labors,  and  felt  glad 
that  priest  craft  was  weakening,  and  that 
creeds  and  confessions  were  loosing  their  inilu* 
ence. 

1  preached  several  times  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  thence  on  Back  creek,  at  Gonotown,  Nes- 
with"s,  gull's,  C's.  L's.  Forks  of  Capon,  Sandy 
Rid^e  meeting  house,  Parks  valley  ;  at  Sandy 
Ri ;!  re  a^ain,  where  I  organized  a  church. 
Thence  I  returned  to  my  father-in-law's  and 
found  my  family  well. 

In  this  journey  I  wasabsent  seven  days,  tra- 
velled about  one  hundred  miles,  and  preached 


10£ 


thirteen  times;  suffered  some  necessity,   and   saw 
and  felt  some  joyful  seasons  of  the  lore  of  God.  It 
was  not  uncommon  when  the  people  knew  where  I 
put  up,  for  them  to  come  in  at  night,  and    fill  th©  , 
house,  expecting-  to  hear  something  from  me! 

July  30th,  I  started  for  the  Western  country* 
accompanied  by  D.  Hess,  of  Maryland.  I  went 
through  different  parts  of  the  state  of  Ohio,  as  far 
back  as  Mad-river,  and  the  Great  Miami.  I  pur- 
chased eighty  acres  of  improved,  land,  of  James 
Love,  on-Rush  creek,  a  few  miles  from  the  ,  town 
©f  Rushville.  in  Fairfield  county,  for  which  1  was 
to  pay  eight  hundred  dollars  1  paid  him  four 
hundred  dollars  in  hand.  Thebalance  was  to  be 
paid,  one  hundred  dollars  annnally;  commencing 
in  twelve  months  after  the  ensuing  April.  I  re- 
turned to  my  father-in  law's  the  27th  of  August, 
having  been  absent  four  weeks— travelled  about 
900  miles,  and  preached  seventeen  times — many 
incidents  I  omit. 

September  4th,  I  directed  my  course  up  the 
country,  f  preached  in  Stoverstown,  S.  Hickle's  j 
Narrow  Passage,  Riddle's,  Hickie's  school  house. 
Mount  Pleasant,  New  Market,  and  on  Smith's 
creek,  in  Rockingham  county.  Here  I  organized 
a  church.  Thence  I  returned  on  the  same  route, 
and  arrived  at  my  father-in-law's.  I  was  absent 
sixteen  days,  travelled  140  miles,  and  preached 
eighteen  times,     I  met  with   some  persecul 

E  2 


100 

saw  some  melting  effects  of  the  word  prra^hed  a* 
mong  the  people  —bad  some  trial*  and  temptations, 
and  had  g^pre  given  to  console  and  deliver    me. 

I  must,  for  the  present,  brine-  this  compend 
of  niy  travels  to  a  close ;  necessarily  leaving  out 
several  years  of  iny  life.  Though  in  this  space 
of  time,  I  have  passed  through  some  of  the  most 
severe  and  important  trials,  and  remarkable 
circumstances  that  have  occurred  during  my 
days. 

A  series  of  trials  and  persecutions  were  com- 
menced  against  me,  in  May,  1821,  by  preach- 
ers and  others,  who  1,  1  formerly  professed 
much  christian  fellowship  and  attachment  for 
me,  living  in  the  lower  regions  of  Virginia.  In 
November  following,  in  a  conferrence  (as  they 
called  it)  held  at  the  Republican  Chapel,  in 
Isle  of  Wight  county,  Va.  they  levelled  their 
artillery  of  abuse  against  me.  They  publish- 
ed me  as  then  having  excommunicated  me, 
(though  I  can  prove  by  documents  now  in  my 
possession,  that  I,  at  and  before  that  time,  no 
more  belonged  to  their  ecclesiastical  jurisdic- 
tion, than  I  did  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Pope 
of  Rome,  or  to  the  Hierarchy  of  the  Church  of 
England.)  Their  publication  contained  the 
most  daring  and  nefarious  LIBEL  that  I  ever 


107 

knew  men  venture  to  publish  to  the  world. 
When  it  reached  the  part  of  country  where  I 
lived  and  was  known,  it  enraged  the  public 
mind,  broke  the  common  peace,  and  for  awhile 
the  authors  were,  by  many,  threatened  with 
violence,  if  they  should  show  their  faces  in 
those  regions. 

Those  authors,  though  some  of  them  had  ne- 
ver seen  me,  and  none  of  them  had  seen  me  but 
one  short  space,  during  eleven  years,  presumed 
to  develope  the  general  and  minute  parts  of  my 
character;  in  which  they  were  bold  to  say 
that  I  was  a  "common  liar,"  "extremely  un- 
stable, hypocritical,  deceiver,"  &c  &c.  with 
many  other  things  equally  libellous  and  un- 
true ' ! 

During  1822  and  1823,  R  F  Fergusoa,  in  sup- 
port of  whose  character  I  was  principally  bro't 
into  this  scene  of  distress,  made  use  of  this  pub- 
lication as  an  engine  with  which  (many  of  the 
brethren  thought)  he  might  have  me  put  back 
out  of  the  De<  ifpheses  way.  Of  course  I  wac 
brought  to  trial  to  answer  to  the  accusations 
alleged  in  the  publication.  1  was  considered 
clear  of  moral  turpitude.  I  was  brought  to  tri- 
al ngain.  I  was  again  considered  in  the  same 
light.    By  some  kind  of  testification,  I  way 


108 

brought  to  trial  again  to  answer  to  tfees&mc 
lication!    I  was  again  considered  in  the  same, 
light. 

I  then  obtained  a  certificate,  signed  by  Elder 
R.  F.  Ferguson,  Elder  E  Harvey,  and  Elder  C. 
Sine,  stating  that  the  accusations  in  the  above 
publication^  there  were  none  other)  had  been 
investigated,  and  that  they  and  the  churches 
retained  rue  in  my  standing,  as  before  the  publi- 
cation, andin  full  fellowship. 

During  this  time  I  proceeded  to  get  the  affida- 
vits, certificates  and  signatures  of  hundreds  of 
the  respectable  citizens  of  Rockingham,  Shen- 
andoah, Frederick,  Hampshire,  Loudon  and 
Fauquer  counties,  who,  during  a  number  of 
years,  had  been  familiarly  acquainted  with  my 
public  and  private  character,  to  testify  what 
they  knew  concerning  it.  The  following  ^re 
a  small  part  of  what  I  obtained.  The  much 
larger  balance  I  retain  in  my  possession : 


109 


CERTIFICATES- 

This  will  certify  that  wc  the  undersigned, 
have  known  the  public  character  of  Mr  Joseph 
Thomas,  and  have  also  been  personally  ac- 
quainted with  him  many  years,  and  we  can 
truly  and  safely  say,  that  he  is  well  known, 
and  taken  to  be  an  innocent,  pious,  good  and 
faithful  christian  and  preacher  of  the  gospel. 
lie  is  esteemed  for  the  punctuality  and  candor 
of  his  word  and  conversation,  We  have  ne- 
ver, known  any  charge  or  accusation  of  any 
kind  alleged  against  his  moral  character ;  so 
'far  from  it,  that  as  far  as  we  know,  or  can  learn, 
he  has,  since  his  first  coming  into  this  country? 
stood  fair  and  irreproachable  in  the  estimation 
of  all  who  know  him. 

Given  under  our  hands,  in  Mount  Pleasant, 
Shenandoah  county,  Va.  April  14th,  1822. 

J.  Morgan,  R.  Winfield,  M.  D.,  W.  R.  New- 
ham,  M.  Goodrich,  S.  Walton,  esq.  J.  New- 
ham,  E.  Clark,  R.  Allen,  A.  Rhodes,  M  Moore, 
D.  Peters,  I.  Lutz,  J.  Osborn,  J.  Moon,  M. 
Sigler,  J.Wilson,  M.  D.,  H.  Higgins,  J.  Par- 
ker, J.   Bedinger,  J.  Bvumfield,  J.  Harris,  J. 


210 

I  his  will  testify  that  we  the  undersigned' 
have  been  personally  acquainted  with  Mr* 
Joseph  Thomas,  nine  or  ten  years  last  past. 
We  have  always  known  him  to  be  a  man  of 
truth  and  candor,  piety  and  virtue,  against 
whom  we  have  never  known  any  accusation, 
nor  species  of  immorality  of  any  kind,  at  any 
time  substantiated.  His  character  therefore, 
as  far  as  we  can  ascertain,  remains  unimpeach- 
able, and  worthy  to  be  relied  on  as  a  christian 
and  faithful  and  useful  preacher  of  the  gospel. 

Given  under  our  hands  in  Hampshire  county 
Va.  April  20. 1822. 

J.  Zidwell,  J.  Hiett,  A.  Cooper,  J.  Dela- 
plain,  J.  Hawkins,  J.  Kidwell,  Jer.  Hiett,  D. 
Little,  John  Kidwell,  H.  Kidwell,  A.  Kidwell, 
J.  Higgins,  J.  Hawkins,  D.  Hawkins,  J.  High- 
ett,S.  Ward,  J.  Ellis,  W.  Demington,T.  M'-^ 
Kirker,  J.  Pennington,  E.  Pennington,  T.  Long, 
T.  Pennington,  J.  M'Vicker,  J.  Albin,  Wm. 
Dunlap,  Wm.  Jenning,  Wm.  La  Follet,  F, 
Good,  J.  Long,  I.  Pennington,  B.  Gulder,  D. 
Anderson,  J.  Hiett,  J.  Wilson. 

This  is  to  certify  that  I  have  been  personal- 
ly acquainted  with  the  Rev .  Joseph  Thomas, 
for  nine  or  ten  years. — In  this  time,  I  have  had 


Ill 

oattsiderable  de'allings  and  intercourse  with 
him.  I  have  always  found  him  to  be  a  man  o* 
punctuality,  honesty  and.  truih.  I  have  always 
known  him  to  be  very  correct  in  all  his  trans- 
actions in  business,  and  can  pronounce  him  to 
the  best  of  my  knowledge,  worthy  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  the  public.  His  public  cha- 
racter, as.far  as  I  know  ©r  can  learn,  stands 
fair  and  unimpeachable. 

Given  under  my  hand   at  Woodstock,  Va« 
this  2ist  day  of  Feb.  1822. 

J.  RINKER,Jun.   Esq, 

Shenandoah  county,  to  wit: 
This  day  personally  appeared  before  me, 
John  W.  Rice,  one  of  the  justices  of  the  peace 
for  the  county  of  Shenandoah,  Wm.  E.  Clark 
and  James  Severs,  and  made  oath  to  the  fol- 
lowing statements  respecting  Joseph  Thomas, 
Given  under  my  hand  this  20th  day  of  Feb. 
1822.  .JOHN  W.  RICE. 

,  Wm.  E.  Clark,  have  been  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  the  public  and  'private  charac- 
ter of  Elder  Joseph  Thomas  about  five  years. 
During  this  time  I  -have  been  much  in  his  com- 
pany, and  often  at  his  house.  I  have  ever  found 
him  strictly  upright,,  humble  and  pious.    I  have 


112 

always  found  him  to  be  of  a  gentle,  meek  and 
of  mind — a  man  of  the  strict- 
est truth,  probity  and  veracity.     I  know  of  no 
man  who  has  more  iron 

is  more  worthy  of  the  general  esteem  and  con- 
fidence of  all  his  neighbor-?,  and  people  who 
know  him,  than  the  said  Joseph  Thomas.  \* 
far  as  I  know,  his  character  in  private  is  amia* 
ble,  virtuous  and  useful ;  and  in  public,  is  en- 
viable and  unimpeachable.. 

WILLIAM  E.  CLARK. 

Having  been  acquainted  with  the  above  na- 
med J.  Thomas  for  a  number  of  year-,  I  fully 
concur  in  the  sentiments  of  the  above  affidavit 
and  know  him  to  be  a  man  who  maintains  the 
best  of  character  as  a  harmless  citizen,  a  pi- 
ous christian,  a  man  of  truth,  and  as  a  useful 
and  eminent  preacher  of  the  gospel ;  and  to 
the  farthest  ot  my  knowledge,  irreproachable 
in  all  his  demeanor.         JAMES  SEVE I 

I  have  known  Elder  Joseph  Thomas  for  up*' 
wards  of  ten  years  last  oast.  During  this  time 
he  has  been  a  frequent  and  welcome  visiter  at 
my  house,  so  that  I  have  become  very  familiar, 
and  intimate  with  him.     I  have  alwiv 


in 

served  him  to  be  very  pious  and  humble,  and 
[strictly  correct  in  all  his  conversation.  I  have 
I  never  known  him  to  deviate  in  word  or  deed 
from  truth  and  virtue.  Therefore  from  ten 
lyears'  acquaintance  with  him,  I  must  pro- 
inounce  him,  in  my  esteem,  a  man  of  truth,  a 
(pious  christian,  and  an  example  of  gojod  mor- 
jals  to  his  fellow  creatures,  and  worthy  the  con- 
fidence of  the  public.  As  far  as  1  have  become 
acquainted  with  his  public  character,  it  stands 
high  and  unspotted  in  the  estimation  of  the 
people.  HENRY  SPITZER. 

Shenandoah  county,  to  icit: 

This  day  personally  appeared  before  me, 
kJohn  W.  Rice,  one  of  the  justices  of  the  peace 
for  the  county  of  Shenandoah,  Henry  Spitzer, 
and  made  oath  to  the  above  statement  respect- 
ing Joseph  Thomas. 

Given  under  my  hand  this  20th  day  of  Febru- 
ary 1822.  .JOHN  W.  RICE. 

Nevj  Market,  Shenandoah  co.  Feb.  20,  1 822. 
This  is  to  certify,  that  so  far  as  I  am  acquain- 
ted with  Henry  Spitzer,  James  Severs,   and 
W.  E.  Clark,  I  believe  them  to  be  men  of  truth 
and  respectability,  JOHN  W.  RICE, 


> 


114 

This  may  certify  to  all  whom  it  may  con- 1 
cern,  that  I  have  been  personally  acquainted  | 
v.  Joseph  Thomas,  forthela^t  nine 
years, -upwards  of  a  year  of  which  time,  I  re- 
sided with  him.  The  sentiments  held  by  him 
as  a  professor  of  religion,  are  well  known.  I 
believe  him  to  be  a  man  of  integrity  and  virtue; 
who  endeavors  to  practice  the  doctn 
promulgates — to  live  honestly,  deal  justly,  anp 
do  good  to  mankind.  •    I 

Given  under  my  hand,  this 25th  day  of  Apri* 
at  Big  Capon,  in  the  county  of  Hardy,. 
Virginia.  JOHN  KERN,  Jr. 

Hard}/  county,  to  wit : 

Personally  came  before  me,  John  Littler,  a 

•  of  the  peace  for  the  county  aforesaicU 

Kern  Jr.  thi3  day,  and  made  oath  that  ha 

.   d  the  Rev.  Joseph  Thomas  to  merit  the! 

cter  given  him  in  the  above  certificateJ 

I  do  hereby  certify  that  the  testimy  of  the  said 

John  Kern  Jr.  may  be  relied  on. 

Given  under  my  hand  and  seal  at  Big  Ca- 
pon, in  said  county,  this  25th  day  of  April, 
A.  D.  1822.  JOHN  LITTLER. 

Personally  appeared  before  me,  John  Ship- 
man  a  justice  of  the  peace  in  and  for  Rocking 


11 5 

am  county,  Va.    Daniel    Pickering,  Daniel 
.  s,  Martin  Mart.;  and  Julia  Coweri,  and 

to  the  following: 
have  been  acquainted  with  the  charac- 
ter of  Joseph  Thomas  upward  years. 
During  which  time  we  .have  been  much  in  his 
iy,  and  have;  become  intimately  ac- 
ruainted  with  his  common  conversation  and 
:onduct.  We  have  always  observed  in  Li;n 
the  strictest    piety,  probity  and  virtue,    and 

fave  never  known  him  to  be  guilty  of  the  least 
riminal  or  immoral  act  of  any  kind,  but  has 
been  remarkable,  in  our  esteem,  for  his  v 
ty,  humility,  and  the  exercise  of  all  the  christ- 
ian principles.  In  a  word,  his  character  is  that 
of  a  harmless,  useful  and  irreproachable  christ- 
ian; which  character  he  also  eminei.tiy  main- 
tains  in  public  estimation,  as  far  as  we  have 
ever  heard  or  known  from  personal  acquaint- 
ance. Given  under  our  hands,  this  .3th  day  of 
Feb.  182-2.  JOHN  COWKN, 

MARTIN    MARTZ, 
DANL.  MATHE 
DANL.  PICKERING. 

Thi*  will  certify  that  the  bearer  Elder  Jo- 
seph Thomas,  is  a  mimsterof  the  gospel,  whoso 


I 


116 

apiritual  labors  have  been   remarkably  Wes 
in  our  country.     His  moral  and  religion!  cha 
racter  has  stood  the  storms  of  persecution  anc 
the  envyings  of  many  false  brethren ;  and  re« 
mains  pure  and   untarnished.     No  trans- res- 
sion  nor  sin  can  be  charged  upon  him  by   hie 
most  invidious  enemies.     He  stands  respected3 
and  applauded,  by  the  mass  of  has  acquaintan- 
ces ;  and  as  being  very  useful  and  eminent,  by 
his  brethren. 

We  therefore  recommend  him  to  all  where 
he  may  £0,  as  a  brother  whose  praise  if  in  all 
the  churches ;  and  pray  that  he  may  be  as  ac- 
ceptable to  them  as  he  is  to  us. 

Given  under  our  hands  this  24th  day  of  Sep*'- 
tember,  A.  D.  1825,  Shenandoah  county,  Va. 

Elders — James  Dickinson,  Thomas  Cotrell. 
Joseoh  Wattson,  Clerk  of  the  Christian  church 
in  Strasbunr,  signed  in  behalf  of  the  church. 
Adam  Kern,  Frederick  county,  Walter  A. 
Smith,  Fauquer  county,  Va.  Matthias  Mill*' 
yard,  Deacon,  in  behalf  of  the  church  of  Rock- 
ingham county,  Amos  Hilliad,  James  O'Kane. 

We  the  undersigned  do  certify  that  Elder 
Joseph  Thomas  has  been  well  known  by  us, 
above  seven  years,  above  four  years  of  whicljk 


Ill 

line  he  has  lived  a  neighbor  amongst  us.  Hi? 
ublic  and  private  walks,  have  been  closely 
/atched  and  critically  examined ;  his  spiritual 
ibors  and  worldly  transactions ;  his  deport- 
lent  at  home  and  in  the  region  round  about, 
uring  this  time,  has  been  such  as  to  gain  not 
ply  our  approbation,  but  our  highest  esteem — 
,ur  lasting  respect  and  constant  prayer.  We 
lave  always  found  him  to  be  a  man  of  truth 
ml  candor;  a  man  of  piety  and  patience;  a 
mn  of  persevering  zeal  in  the  cause  of  reli- 
ion ;  a  man  of  exemplary  \iic  in  all  godliness 
nd  honesty.  He  has  always  stood  as  a  very 
seful  and  eminent  preacher  of  the  gospel  a- 
longst  us — always  highly  respected;  his  con- 
regations  generally  large  and  attentive;  and 
Is  house  sufficiently  resorted  to  by  private 
om panics,  to  convince  him  of  the  high  seat 
e  occupies  in  our  affections.  He  first  came 
mongst  us  under  persecutions  and  aspersions, 
hich  caused  us  to  watch  him  the  closer;  but 
ow  being  well  acquainted  with  him,  we  be- 
eve  every  accusation  that  would  injure  his 
haracter,  to  be  false ;  as  we  think  we  fully 
now  the  man,  we  cordially  recommend  him 
o  our  fellow  citizens,  as  a  faithful,  useful  and 
Diinent  preacher  of  the  gospel,  and  a  man  a- 


118 

gainst  whom  no  evil  thing  can  be  alleged  -t$ 
our  knowledge,  in  our  regions. 

Given  under  our  hands  in  Rockingham  co; 
Virginia,  May  10th,  1826. 

J  Martz,jun  S  Martz,  J  Martz,  sen  A  Martz,J 
R  Miller,  J  Byrd.  A  Twarz  A  B  Lincoln,  J 
Magee,  M  Martz,  J  Martz,  F  Martz,A  Phillip^ 
S  K  Fuller,  M  Lore,  P  Koontz,  Sen.  H  Billery 
J  O'Kane,  J  Dunlap,  R  Ellison,  H  O'Kane, 
G  Barr,  S  Matthews,  J  Phillips,  H  Martz,  O 
Lore,  A  Hilyard,  D  Martz,  M  Martz,  Cfc 
Beaver,S  Lowman,  J  Beaver,  T  Beaver,  D  Low 
man,  G  Rodes,  M  Bazzel,  J  Walton,  D  Pick*! 
cring,  E  Henton. 

I  will  promise  my  readers,  that  if  a  second  edi^j 
tion  of  this  publication  be  called  for  during  my] 
life,  I  will  enlarge  this  compend  and  fully  devel ] 
cpe  all  those  important  circumstances  and  occur-l 
rences,  which  singularly  chequer  the  last  teal 
years  of  my  life. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  1826,  I  and  my  family,  leftJ 
Rockingham  county,  Va.  in  the  presence  of  u 
numerous  and  weeping  assembly,  who  had  comej 
to  give  us  their  last  and  endearing  farewell,  and- 
started  on  a  remove  to  the  state  of  Ohio.  Having^ 
a  prosperous  and-^agreeable  journey,  on  the  22d  ofl 
June,  we  made  a  stop  in  Green  county.  OhioJ 
Yn  a  few  days  I  made  a  mircbaie  of  127  acre?  m 


119 

and  of  Mr.  James  Kent,  ons  of  the  most  honora- 
ble and  confidential  men,  thus  far,  that  I  have  had 
^ny  worldly  dealings  with,  in  Madison  county — a 
Diane  called  "Grassy  Point." 

I  and  my  family  are  well  satisfied  with  the  place 
and  with  the  country. 

Since  I  have  resided  here,  I  have  labored  on 
fny  farm — travelled  and  preached  indi/Ierent  parts 
)f  the  state,  as  circumstances  have  admitted.  I 
im  pleased  with  the  general  prospect  of  religton 
among  my  christian  brethren  with  whom  I  have 
jeen  made  acquainted  in  this  state. 

May  the  Lord  prosper  them  and  add  to  his 
:hurch  daily;  and  may  I  meet  my  Father's  chil- 
dren iu  yet  a  better  country  than  this. 


PREFACE 

TO   TH2   POSivSS. 

What  I  am,  as  a  poet,  must  be  left  to  a  scm« 
nizing  public.     If  these   poems  should  come 
lefore  the  Literati,  the  Re  viewer,  or  the  self* 
peated  Critic*  whose  business  and  whose  de- 
ght  it  is,  to  find  faults  and  to  declaim  Coium- 
ta's  Muse;  and  within   whose  falcon   clavys 
any  useful  and  as  »iring  geniuses  have  suffer- 
9  a  painful  and  lingering  death  ;  they  should 
member  who  I  am,  and  whence  I  came.     By 
lading  the  preceding  sketch,  they  may  learn 
at  I  was  born  in  obscurity,  and   have   strugg- 
led into  their  notice  only  by  nature's  force. 
I  have  read  no  language  but  my  own,  and 
ive  travelled  no  land  but  the  land  of  Free- 
en.  Their  country  has  a  long  sea-side  strand, 
dented  with  noble  rivers,  bays  and  harbors, 
here  ride  a  thousand  gallant  vessels,  ladened 
th  the  riches  of  the  c;lobe,  interspersed  with 
wns  and  cities,  whose  lofty  spires  and  mag- 
[icent    structures,  bespeak   an    enterprizine 
d  patriotic  nation.     Their  country  hag  ift 
F 


122 

mountains  too,  stretching  from  one  boundary 
to  the  other,  where  nature  has  play e J  her 
wildest  freaks,  and  exhibited  her  most  gigan* 
tic  wonders.  Their  country  has  its  Western 
forest?,  where  awful  solitude  reigns — its  beauti- 
ous  diins,  where  variegated  flowers  and  rose9 
blooinasfar  as  eye  explores — its  copious  rir- 
ers  pouring  from  unknown  lands  to  the  ocean, 
Here,  beauty,  variety  and  sublimity,  unite  and 
constitute  the  most  propitious  land  on  the  face 
of  nature!  This  is  the  country  I  have  travel- 
led— the  only  field  which  has  furnished  my  im- 
agery and  inspired  my  muse. 

I  have  been  constrained,  for  years  past,  to 
court  the  muses  with  assiduity  and  treat  de- 
li-It  :  but  date  not  say  that  one  of  them  has 
deigned  to  smile  on  me !  I  have  courted  them, 
not  so  much  in  Libraries,  as  in  the  lonesome 
mountains,  and  the  diversified  fields  of  nature. 
Not  within  the  walls  of  Colleges;  but  among 
the  grass-grown  graves  of  the  dead,  and  the  si- 
lent tomb  stones.  Not  so  much  in  the  cities 
and  the  world's  ?r\y  bustle,  as  along  the  moss- 
grown  banks  of  the  meadow  streams,  or  on  the 
roar  ;in  of  the  bablinc  brooks,  that  play  along 
the  sequestered  wilds.  There  have  I  seen 
■  hem  lave  their  snow-white  limbs  in  the  lucid 


123 

wave ;  but  coy  of  my  approach  have  frequent- 
Jy  retired  beyond  my  ascent  the  towering  steeps 
of  great  Parnassus.  Oft  have  I  pursued  their 
flight  till  clouds  and  frowning  shades  have  hid 
them  from  my  view.  Oft  have  1  searched  in 
their  frequented  and  solitary  baunts,  their  fairy 
traces,  and  bowry  seats,  among  the  ivies,  the 
Cyprus  shades,  and  green  woods,  till  I,  as  oft, 
have  became  bewildered,  exhausted  and  hope- 
less! 

And  were  it  not  for  the  infinite  pleasure  I  feel 
in  gaining  a  distant  and  transient  glimpse  of 
the  soul  transporting  form  of  famed  Urania. 
I  would,  long  since,  have  ceased  my  overtures 
in  utter  despair.  But  she  has  fascinated  me.  By 
some  magic  spell  she  has  wooed  me  to  her 
haunts,  where,  at  distance  I  sit  in  silent  but 
pleasing  melancholy,  and  listen  to  the  inimi- 
table notes  that  fill  her  varied  song.  The  melt- 
ing music  that  warbles  in  her  airs,  has  thrilled 
through  my  veins  and  inspired  in  me  a  rude 
imitation  of  her  soul-entrancing  carols. 

I  have  not  mused  in  silent  halls,  without  the* 
cares  and  wants  of  life  to  interrupt  my  medi- 
tations, nor  have  I  written  these  poems  where 
ease  and  books  and  literary  friends  have  sur- 
rttuded  me;  bat   in  the  midst  oX  opressive* 


124 

trials,  cares  and  wants — on  the  side  o  fthe  road, 
when  weary  and  hungr) — on  the  banks  of  ri- 
vers, or  on  the  mountain's  top;  or  when  I 
could  retire  a  moment  from  the  clamors  of  a 
strange  family,  or  steal  a  welcome  hour  from, 
hard  manual  labor,  the  most  of  them  have 
>een  brought  forth-. 


POETttS. 


ON  MY  NEW  PEN. 
YOU  now  are  new,  you  look  quite  fan\ 
But  you  are  formed  for  toil  and  care ; 
You  soon  must  plunge  within  that  ocean, 
Wnrre  you  must  swim  in  vast  commotion  I 
Your  fate's  unknown,  but  I  will  say, 
You'll  meet  with  tempests  in  the  way, 
Unless  you  sail  with  every  tide, 
And  make  each  veering  wind  your  guide* 
Surrounding  hosts  of  furious  foes, 
Will  from  afar,  your  course  oppose; 
And  all  combine  to  sink  and  drown  you, 
And  in  the  deep  with  vengeance  frown  yott.. 
One  thing  that  augurs  ill,  I  think, — 
You'rg ,dQom'd  to  dabble  in  the  ink!    ' 
The  task  that  seems  laid  out  for  you, 
Is  c;uite  unpleasant — painful  too. 
If  you  intetod  to  be  correct, 
The  faults  ctanen  you  must  detect, 
And  tell  themW  their  sins  and  blunders* 
In  melting  strains  and  loud  as  thunders. 
Like  niadden'd  bees  they'll  then  arise, 
£nd  sting  you  deep,  your  words  despise. 


126 

For  your  advice  they'll  loudly  blame  you-* 
Misrepresent  and  much  defame  you. 
My  dear  young  friend,  now  let  me  sayy 
You'd  better  tread  the  beaten  way ; 
And  never  fail  all  men  to  flatter, 
If  ri^ht,  or  wrong,  that  makes  no  matter; 
Look  o'er  their  faults,  and  let  them  be, 
What  others  do  is  naught  to  thee. 

Go  join  yourself  to  some  big  creed, 
And  that  will  license  every  deed; 
Your  friends  will  then  in  swarms  surround  yotij 
And  priestly  ease  and  wealth  abound  you ; 
The  world  will  then  admire  the  feather, 
Caress  and  praise  you  altogether ! 
When  you  behold  the  priests'  corruptions, 
And  all  their  craft  and  interruptions, 
Say  not  a  word  against  their  plan, 
But  join  the  most  applauded  clan ; 
Be  oriest  yourself  that  interest  take, 
And  then  be  mute  for  conscience'  sake; 
You'll  find  it  will  your  store  increase, 
To  shear  the  flock  and  take  the  fleece, 
Pen  up  your  fold  within  their  bounds, 
IS  or  let  them  tread  forbidden  grounds  1 
Go  feed  them  on  old  Popish  stuff, 
On  men's  inventions, hu'^e  and  rough, 
And  swell  them  up  with  pride  and  fashion* 


127 

And  cive  them  John's  or  Martin's  ration! 
They'll  scarcely  then  suspect  you  wrong, 
But  loudly  praise  you  in  the  throne:, 
They'll  Jove,  and  fear,  and  strict  obey  yo;a> 
And  for  your  service  richly  pay  you. 
Now  take  my  word  while  you  are  young, 
Lest  you  be  beaten,  bruis'd  and  stung. 
And  if  you  will  be  wayward  led, 
You  may  too  late  think  what  I've  said, 

To  this  the  pen  in  warmth  replied^ 
Thou  hypocrite  and  worse  beside, 
To  try  to  lead  me  from  the  truth, 
And  make  me  Devil  in  my  youth. 
Your  sage  advice  I  must  despise, 
And  deem  it  fruitless  and  unwise; 
I  heard  it  with  surprise  and  horror, 
It  111  I'd  my  soul  with  grief  and  sorrow,. 
I  see  mankind  by  priests  ire  blinded, 
But  few  sincere  and  honest  minded  ; 
They've  made  religion  cloak  to  hide, 
The  works  of  larkness  sin  and  pride, 
I  will  not  crowd  their  beaten  way, 
But  tell  them  they  are  gone  astray. 
I'll  take  the  word  of  God  in  hand, 
And  on  that  rock  by  faith  I'll  stand, 
And  loud  on  nose  the  Diiests'  inventions, 
Their  numerous  creeds  and  bud  intention? 


128 

And  though  I  should  be  quite  alone^ 

And  re  resented  sad,  forlorn  ; 

Though  priests  should  rise  in  hosts  around  me, 

They  shall  not  daunt  nor  once  confound  me. 

I'll  try  to  teach  the  truth  and  say, 

Beware  of  priests  their  craft  and  way, 

Their  orthodox  is  now  astray! 

I  care  not  what  they  say  of  me, 

I  was  a  quill,  and  quill  I'll  be, 

I'll  mark  their  faults — their  faults  Pll  scribble, 

Though  they  may  rage  and  loudly  quibble; 

I  will  not  seek  my  future  fame, 

Nor  sink  at  censure  on  my  name; 

I'll  speak  in  prole  and  various  measure, 

"Without  regard  to  earthly  treasure. 

AN  ELEGY, 

On  the  death  of  Rice    Haggard,  an  eminent 
preacher  of  the  gospel-*- well  known,  ana  high* 
ly  esteemed,  in  the  South  and   West  by  the 
Christian  brethren.     He  died  at  an  advanced 
age  in  Champaign  county,  Ohio,  when  on  a 
journey  to  preach  the  gospel. 
O !  Haggard !  thou  hast  left  thy  house  of  clay, 
And  win^'d  thy  passage  to  immortal  day ! 
Kiivl  Angels  haird  thee  to  their  bright  abode, 
And  shouted  welcome,  valiant  son  of  God.- 


129 

Imagination  points  me  now  thy  throne, 
Among  the  saints  and  highest  seraphs  knowfi, 
There  dwells  thy  spirit,  and  forever  reigns, 
Triumphant  in  high  heaven's  supernal  plains 

No  storms  distress  thee  in  thy  sweet  repose? 
But  heavenly  peace  on  thee  thy  God  bestows, 
Thy  toils  are  ended,  and  thy  fortune's  fou'id, 
Where  golden  treasures  and  rich  spoils  abound ; 
Eternal  honors  crown  thy  worthy  brow, 
And  scenes  celestial  open  to  thee  now! 

I  hail  thee  gladly  in  thy  robes  of  whitef 
On  streets  of  gold — in  mansions  of  delight. 
Np  howling  winds,  nor  tempests  beat  thee  there ^ 
Nor  earthly  wants  to  generate  thy  care, 
Thou  bast  escap'd  thy  native  land  below, 
To  ever  live  where  trees  ambrosial  grow ; 
Thou  hast  behind  thee,  left  a  name  reverM, 
That  once  consol'd  the  saints,  &  sinners  fear'dt 

In  youth  thy  God  commanded  thee  away, 
From  fond  pursuits  and  objepts  of  the  day — 
To  leave  the  phon^n,  &  all  thy  friends  around. 
To  seek  a  Saviour  and  the  gospel  sound. 

Thy  parents  poor,  had  never  taught  thee  then^ 
To  read  the  Eible,  nor  to  use  the  pen  ; 
But  in  the  smooth  sand  thou  didst  learn  to  wri£cft 
And  taught  thyself  to  read  "by  faggot  light! 
F  2 


130 

Not  long  till  science  shone  upon  thy  mind, 
Thy  sins  forsaken  and  thy  soul  refin'd, 
The  Saviour- s  call  to  sound  the  Jubilee, 
Was  loudly  heard  and  then  obeyM  by  thee. 

In  melting  strains  thy  youthful  voice  was 
heard, 
And  weeping  eyes  among  the  crowds  appeared  ; 
Thy  son'rous  voice,  like  silver  trumpet's  sound, 
Awak'd  the  sinner  from  his  sleep  profound ; 
Convinc'd  him  he  was  in  the  downward  way, 
Constraint  him  to  repent,  to  weep  and  pray. 

Thy  friends — a  num'rous  train,  now  left  in 
tears, 
To  mourn  thee  absent  for  some  tedious  }rcars, 
Do  fondly  hope  to  meet  thee  once  again, 
Where  death  is  foil'd  in  heav-ns  extended  plain. 

_____  V^TNV 

ON  WINTER. 
FAREWELL,  ye  pleasant  shades  and  bloom- 
ing flow1rs, 
Ye  passing  zephyrs  and  refreshing  showers, 
Farewell,  ye  plumy  birds  in  mellow  lay, 
And  all  ye  pleasures  of  the  summer's  day- 
Cold  winter  comes  and  nips   with    frost  th£ 
bloom, 
And  shrouds  the  forests  with  a  sullen  eloom  * 


131 

He  binds  the  mellow  earth  in  icy  chains, 
And  shakes  his  hoary  locks  and  griritfy  reigns,. 
He  comes  in  howling  tempests,  frosts  and  snow, 
And  swells  his  chilly  blasts  on  all  below ; 
He  drives  his  northern  storms  alone;  the  sky. 
And  growls  loud  terror  as  he  passes  by. 
Dark  clouds  presage  his  giant  presence  near, 
And  forests  loose  the  foilage  of  the  year; 
He  binds  the  waters — flings  his  snows  amain, 
And  drifts  the  mountain  and  the  distant  plain. 

Beneath  his  steps  a  thousand  insects  die, 
And  skulking  beasts  unite  a  frighted  cry, 
His  chilling  breath  makes  nature's   beautiei 

fade, 
Despoils  the  umbrage  of  the  bow'ry  shade. 
Thp  songs  are  hush'd  that  thrill'd  along  the 

plain, 
And  flocks  and  herds  lie  down  with  sullen  pain ; 
The  summer  birds  have  fled  his  chilling  sway. 
To  chaunt  their  notes  along  in  milder  day ; 
The  plains  and  forests  mourn   his  frosty  hand, 
The  feeble  sun  scarce  peeps  upon  the  land. 

>o  shall  the  days  of  youthful  sports  be  sped, 
And  wintry  age  shall  whiten  on  the  head, 
No  revel  scenes  to  cheer  the  old  man's  pow'rs, 
But-dull  and  cheerless  drag  his  tedious  hours; 


132 

The  charm?  of  earth  now  fading  in  his  cjty 
Bid  him  farewell  and  far  forever  fly! 


THE  RURAL  CHRISTIAN. 
THERE  lives  a  man  remote  frompride> 

From  ostentation  free, 
The  holy  spirit  ishis  guide — 

But  few  so  kind  as  he. 
No  gorgeous  pillars  prop  his  dome, 

Nor  pompous  art  display 'd  ; 
But  there  remains  his  humble  home, 

Immersed  in  willow  shade- 
Around  this  antique  dwelling  grows, 

The  sweet  perennial  flowers, 
That  scent  the  zephyr  as  it  blows 

Along  the  leafy  bowers. 
The  waving  blue  grass  makes  the  green., 

And  woos the  passing  eyes; 
While  flowing  shrub'ry  deck  the  scenea 

And  Lombard  poplars  rise. 
A  fruitful  garden  then  extends 

Along  the  passing  way; 
And  with  surrounding  beauty  blends^ 

Aad  erowjas  the  toils  of  May 


1S| 

But  all  this  outward  rural  bloom, 

Can  faintly  paint  to  thee, 
The  bliss  that  decks  the  cottage  room, 

When  strangers  come  to  see. 
The  wants  of  nature  are  supplied,. 

By  mercy's  tender  hand; 
With  this  the  man  is  satisfied, 

And  would  no  more  demand. 
His  humble  wife  and  children  sweet, 

In  harmony  unite ; 
And  round  the  throne  of  mercy  meet — 

Enjoy  supreme  delight. 
There  meekness,  peace  and  friendship  dwell, 

Upon  that  hallow'd  ground ; 
And  from  each  breast  sweet  praises  swell, 

For  blessings  they  have  found. 

His  wealth  is  more  than  shining  dust, 
Or  more  than  kings  bestow — 

A  hope  of  crowns  that  cannot  rust*. 
Rcleas'd  from  earth  below. 


RETIREMENT. 
LET  me  retire  from  noisy  life, ' 
From  cares  of  wealth  and  scenes  of  strife. 
And  build  my  cottage  wucFe 


i34 

Kind  nature  gives  a  cooling  spring, 
And  merry  birds  wild  anthems  sing, 

And  flowers  spontaneous  there. 
From  sordid  cares  my  mind  would  soar, 
And  trace  the  ways  of  God  the  more. 

And  swell  his  praises  high ; 
My  wants  bui  few  would  be  supplied, 
Pd  seek  no  more  on  earth  beside, 

But  look  beyond  the  sky. 
Should  winter  blow  his  Bor'al  storm, 
I'd  make  my  little  cottage  warm, 

And  gather  round  the  fire ; 
My  babes  would  smile  and  prattle  sweet, 
My  wife,  myself,  and  all  would  meet* 

In  one  harmonic  choir. 
I'd  teach  the  infant  mind  to  pray, 
And  point  it  to  a  brigher  day, 

Than  transient  suns  can  give; 
IM  join  myself  in  holy  song, 
The  praise  of  God  I  would  prolong, 

And  thus  I'd  wish  to  hxc. 
Should  vernal  suns  expand  the  green. 
And  blooming  beauties  deck  the  scene, 

I'd  take  the  pleasant  share ; 
To  cultivate  a  little  soil, 
And  ?ce  my  labors  and  my  to;J, 

A  welcome  harvest  bear. 


135 

The  world  might  pass  me  by  with  scorn^ 
.Esteem  me  wretched  and  forlorn, 

Not  worthy  of  her  train ; 
She  might  not  know  I  had  a  name, 
Unless  it  were  contempt  and  shame, 

Erratic  in  the  brain. 
But  why  should  I  regard  the  world  ? 
With  all  her  glories  wide  unfurPd, 

And  all  her  golden  store? 
She  proffers  more  than  she  contains, 
Her  pleasures  turn  to  grief  and  pains# 

And  satisfy  no  more. 
Her  noisy  sons  wrho  dash  the  street, 
And  scorn  their  equals  when  they  meet, 

Know  not  their  danger  nigh  ; 
But  soon  alas !  their  race  will  end,  • 
And  then  without  a  heavenly  friend, 

How  wretched  must  they  die ! 
But  me,  the  giddy  world  knows  not, 
Obscurd  within  mj  rural  cot, 

I  have  what  nature  ^ives; 
For  me  the  sun  shines  bright  and  clear. 
For  me  refreshing  rains  appear, 

For  me  the  harvest  lives. 
I  envy  not  the  rich  man's  store, 
I  have  his  share  and  ten  times  morq 

A  heavenly  peace  within ; 


13G 

My  God  in  all  his  works  I  praise^ 

To  him  my  raptured  soul  1  raise, 

Above  the  world  and  sin. 


THE  POLAR  STAR. 

ALL  hail !  thou  midnight  constant  guide, 

Thou  steady  polar  star ; 
The  sailor  on  the  stormy  tide, 

Salutes  thee  from  afar. 

When  winds  and  billows  lone:  prevail. 

And  clouds  of  darkness  rise, 
Then  sailors1  art  and  courage  fail, 

Beneath  inclement  skies. 

On  boist'rous  seas  unfriendly  tost, 

The  vessel  runs  astray ; 
The  oilot  has  his  compass  lost, 

Nor  knows  the  dang'rous  way. 

But  when  the  clouds  disperse  and  fly, 
And  heav^  grows  calm  and  clear, 

lie  sees  the?  shining  in  the  sky, 
And  bids  farewell  to  fear. 

His  course  direct,  by  thee  he  learns, 
And  seeks  the  destin'd  strand ; 


137 

The  dangers  of  the  deep  discern^ 
And  finds  his  native  land. 

The  lonely  pilgrim  as  he  strays, 

Nor  devious  path  can  see, 
May  boldly  tread  the  sylvan  maze,. 

And  safely  trust  in  thee. 

But  should  the  sky  thick  clouds  resume^ 
And  hide  thee  from  his  si^ht, 

He's  lost !  and  wanders  in  the  gloom, 
And  wanders  from  the  right. 

Ah !  could  we  always  see  thee  plain, 

Nor  clouds  to  interpose, 
"We  then  could  ride  th  N  stormy  maity 

Nor  fear  the  wind  that  blows. 

But  yonder  shines  a  brighter  bearn^ 
Amid  the  throne  of  heav'n; 

His  blest  illuminating:  gleam, 
Lights  up  the  darkest  eve'n* 

While  sailing  on  the  tide  of  life, 

The  boisfrous  billows  roll, 
The  stormy  winds  of  an  cry  strife, 

Alarm  the  Hunting  soul. 

Sometimes  how  dark  the  hemisphere^. 
How  roll  the  seas  below**- 


138 

Hownuh  the  rocks  of  death  appear* 
How  strong  the  tides  of  wo  I 

My  vessel  tost  on  distant  seas, 
Her  sails  are  rip'd  and  torn ; 

•fine  reels  before  the  stormy  breeze, 
And  makes  me  pensive  mourn.. 

But  all  the  dangers  that  arise, 
Can't  make  me  yet  despair; 

I  see  my  pilot  in  the  skies, 
Who  smiling,  points  me  there. 

This  steady  stur  I  keep  in  sight, 
As  on  the  wives  I'm  driv'n ; 

The  veering  breeze  may  blow  me  righ^ 
And  land  me  safe  in  heav'n. 

Then  let  me  not  so  much  complain, 
A  nd  let  me  weep  no  more ; 

This  star  directs  across  the  main, 
Towards  a  peaceful  shore. 

Prorations  star'  forever  shine, 
And  oe'er  withdraw  from  me; 

Direct  this  devious  course  of  mine, 
O'er  this  tempestuous  sea. 

# !  lead  me  on  to  those  bright  plains, 
Where  my  rich  treasure  lies ; 


139 

Where  saints  immortal  fbel  no^pains^. 
Nor  tears  bedew  their  eyes. 


TH£  ROSE. 

Within  the  garden  there  expands, 

A  blooming  fragrant  flower; 
That  captivates  me,  as  it  stands, 

With  its  enchanting  power. 
Its  modest  grace  and  sweet  perfume^. 

So  harmonize  together, 
Old  Eden  can't  its  tints  nssume, 

In  lovely  vernal  weather! 

Its  sweet  companions  smile  around, 

And  wave  their  proudest  ui 
But  such  a  beauty  can't  be  found, 

In  all  the  flow'iy  borders. 
Its  dress  is  rich  beyond  compare, 

Plain,  humble,  uuussumin/, 
More  beauteous  than  its  kindred  fair, 

Mope  od'rous,  sweet  and  biooiuinj. 

Kind  nature  hath  on  it  imprest, 

A  rich  perfume  to  lave  it, 
We  long;  remember  it  is  blest, 

Though  winds  annoy  and  waveil 


140 

But  O !  this  sweet  enchanting  ros^ 
Hdvv  thick  with  thorns  surrounded-* 

I've  tried  to  pluck  it,  as  it  grows, 
But  often  have  been  wounded, 

Jts  thorns  have  pierced  me  to  the  sense. 

Before  I  thought  of  danger, 
And  frequently  inflict  offence, 

To  the  incautious  stranger. 

The  full  blown  rose  will  fade  away, 

Its  glory  soon  be  blighted, 
Its  beauty  wither  and  decay r 

Not  worthy  to  be  plighted. 

There  is  a  rose  of  s  weeter  grace, 

And  ever  more  inviting, 
It  is  the  lovely  female's  face, 

With  all  her  charms  delighting. 

This  lovely,  cantivatin ;  form, 
The  raptur'd  soul  surprises; 

The  stoic  heart,  her  features  warm^ 
While  strange  attachment  rises. 

Here  virtue,'  beauty,  grace  conjoin'd5 

In  ev'ry  blooming  f  ature, 
How  tender,  sweet  and  well  refin'd, 

Infatuating  creature! 
po  jewel  half  io  '>riz'd  1  s«e, 

The  best  and  richest  treasure. 


141 

A  faithful  friend  she's  prov'd  to  me; 
I'he  meed  of  human  pleasure. 

But  O  !*  that  bloom  may  soon  decay, 
With  clouds  be  overshaded, 

I  would  lament  the  ruthless  day, 
That  saw  her  scaith'd  and  faded. 

But  should  the  bloom  in  virtue  shine, 

I  always  will  remember, ' 
That  tender  friend — I  call  her  mine, 

In  frosts  of  bleak  December. 

*Tis  virtue  that  will  never  fade> 
Let  virtue's  robes  adorn  her, 

]  then  will  love  her  in  the  shade, 
And  will  not,  cannot  scorn  her, 


A  DIRGE. 


LORD  what  am  I  ?  Ah  who  can  say? 
A  man !  a  worm !  a  cldd  of  clay  1 


Ingenious  form,  of  wond'rous  birth, 
Of  high  degree,  a  child  of  earth. 
Corrupted  matter,  low  confin'd, 
Possess'd  of  spirit  closely  join'd, 
Jmpoverish'd  reptile,  drown'd  in  woes, 
Without  a  friend — pursued  by  foes. 
My  life  how  like  the  gliding  stream, 
Or  like  the  nightly  vanish'd  dream ; 


My  tansient  day  is  nothing  more5 
Than  bubbles  bursting  on  the  shore, 
The  ocean's  towry  billows  rise, 
And  seem  to  climb  amid  the  skies, 
But  soon  they  sink  and  roll  away, 
Not  coexistent  with  the  day. 
So  would  I  vainly  place  my  seat, 
That  man  should  move  beneath  my  feety 
But  soon  aias !   I  must  descend, 
Where  dust  enfolds  our  earthly  end. 
But  tho'  I  have  short  time  to  stay, 
In  this  imprisoned  tent  of  clay, 
I  have  a  mind — that  mind  can  trace 
Beyond  the  grave,  a  boundless  space. 
This  reasoning  sense,  a  part  divine, 
Death  can't  destroy,  nor  grave  confine, 
That  speaks  a  God,  proclaims  an  hour, 
"When  d'eath  shall  loose  his  tyrant  pow5r< 
I  feel  within,  a  lucid  ray, 
Thit  opes  to  me  eternal  day, 
An  ardent  sense  to  grasp  a  prize, 
Not  found  where  earthly  treasure  lies, 
I  will  forsake  those  swarms  that  play, 
Like  floating  gnats  on  summer's  day. 
That  skim  along  like  butterflies, 
And  fall  unfledg'd  with  sad  surprise 


143 

i  claim  no  kin  to  their  gay  race, 

I  count  their  pride  my  low  disgrace, 

Their  wealth  their  pleasure  and  their  fame, 

Are  flitting  shades — an  empty  name. 

I  claim  my  kindred,  not  with  earth, 

And  none  but  those  of  heavenly  birth ; 

No  hoards  I  seek  of  golden  oar, 

But  look  for  treasures  valued  more. 

This  earth  can't  long  confine  me  here, 

I'll  bid  farewell  without  a  tear 

To  all  her  cares,  and  mouut  the  skies, 

And  sieze  my   lov'd  immortal  prize. 

A  THOUGHT  ON  WAR. 
LIKE  mighty  storms  of  winter's  sky, 

Descending  from  the  hills, 
That  rake  destruction  as  they  fly, 

And  sweep  the  tremblingrrills. 

So  war  with  his  attendant  host 

Aproximates  the  field, 
There  champion  chiefs  their  courage  boast3 

Nor  will  the  contest  yield. 

They  c,-ive  command  and  rush  amain, 

The  soldiers  bleed  around, 
And  countless  numbers  lick  the  plain: 

And  bleed  upon  the  ground- 


144 

When  foaming  streams  together  meet. 

And  toss  their  surges  high. 
When  on  the  rocky  shallows  beat, 

The  rooted  forests  die. 
So  chief  with  chief,  and  man  with  man? 

In  battle's  dread  affright, 
Commix  and  rage,  and  kill  who  can, 

And  heap  the  bloody  sight. 

From  wing  to  wing  the  carnage  runs, 

No  hiding  place  is  near, 
Wide  wasting  death, in  cannon  gun9, 

In  sword,  in  dart  and  spear. 

A  thousand  thunders  shake  the  sky, 

The  frighted  clouds  look  pale, 
A  thousand  heroes  gasp  and  die, 

And  blanch  upon  the  vale. 
Promiscuous  slaughter  raves  along, 

And  thins  the  rank  and  file, 
How  soon  alas!  he  wastes  the  throng, 

And  heaps  the  reeking  soil. 

Relations,  friends  and  brothers  dear, 

In  murd'rous  conflict  meet, 
And  stain  with  blood  the  polish'd  spear ; 

And  die  at  other's  feet. 
Let  ocean  break  divine  decrees, 

And  whelm  the  guilty  shore:. 


145 

Let  pestilence  the  cities  siege, 
And  slay  a  thousand  more. 

Let  earthquakes  shake  the  distant  strand, 

And  wide  dispart  the  earth  ; 
Alarm  the  nations  as  they  stand, 

And  stop  their  guilty  mirth  . 

Let  famine  rage  along  the  plain, 

And  waste  our  wicked  race, 
Let  glutton'd  monarchs  feel  the  pain, 

And  wear  a  haggard  face. 

And  should  our  crimes  yet  more  inflame, 

O  Lord  thy  dreadful  ire, 
Then  teach  us  all  our  guilt  and  shame, 

By  mildews,  blasts  and  fire. 

These  are  thy  scourges  Lord  we  know, 

To  humble  human  pride, 
But  stay  thy  hand,  nor  strike  the  blow, 

And  better  things  provide. 

But  war,  with  his  attendant  woes, 

Is  not  from  thee,  divine, 
From  hellish  passions  he  arose, 

And  no  descent  of  thine. 

Let  nations  know  the  gospel  strain 
And  hear  the  Saviour's  lore ; 
G 


i4tf 

Let  them  the  christian  cause  maintain. 
And  war  shall  be  no  more. 

Let  swords  be  made  to  plough  the  field. 
And  spears  to  sickles  turn ; 

O  may  the  world  to  Jesus  yield, 
And  his  example  learn. 


THE  VERNAL  SEASON. 

FAREWELL  thou  stormy  rig'rous  blast./ 
Your  gloomy  horrors  now  are  past, 
And  all  ycur  frowns  seren'd  at  last, 

By  smiles  of  lovely  spring. 
From  orient  realms  the  vernal  sun, 
Appears  again — the  prize  is  won, 
His  cheerful  beams  reviving  run, 

And  make  creation  sing. 

The  torpid  insects  move  again, 
Forget  the  gripe  of  winter's  chain. 
And  scatter  o'er  the  smiling  plain. 

And  tell  their  modes  of  joy ; 
A  thousand  notes  of  music  sweet, 
Resound  aloud  from  each  retreat,. 
With  one  accord  the  songsters  meet, 

And  all  their  tongues  employ. 


147 

The  savage  beasts  of  fiercer  flame. 
The  herds  and  flocks  of  ev'ry  namc5 
Their  vanousjoys  aloud  proclaim, 

While  sounding  anthem?  swell ; 
The  far  sequestered  forests  join, 
The  heaths  and  meadows  all  combine, 
And  sound  aloud  the  hymn  divine, 

The  God  of  nature  tell. 

Unnumbered  charms  attract  the  sight, 
The  purple,  blue  and  spotless  white, 
That  dress  all  nature  with  delight; 

Inflame  my  ravish'd  soul ; 
The  umbrage  of  the  distant  trees, 
The  pinks  awaken'd  by  the  breeze, 
The  blushing  rose  well  form'd  to  please. 

My  senses  sweet  control. 

The  Orchards  smile  in  fragrant  bloom, 
The  desert  wastes  their  ilowers  assume, 
And  wanton  zephyrs  waft  perfume, 

Along  the  passing  air; 
The'lofty  mountains  ope  their  green, 
The  low  sunk  vales  that  lie  between. 
Put  on  the  beauty  of  the  scene, 

And  wave  enchantment  there- 
Let  stoic  hearts  conjoin  to  sing, 
The  parent  of  returning  spring. 


14^ 

A.nd  mount  on  soft  celestial  wing. 

Above  tiiis  earthly  clod  ; 
Let  nature  teach  their  souls  to  rai 
Unceasing  thanks  and  songs  of  praise 
And  mingle  in  harmonic  lays, 

To  their  Creator  God. 

This  scene  how  like  the  vernal  years. 
When  youth  in  every  face  appears, 
And  nought  to  start  the  trickling  tears. 

Nor  cause  the  rising  sigh ; 
The  rapt'rous  prospects  wide  extend, 
While  hope  and  joy  each  other  blend. 
The  flatter'd  youth  descries  no  end, 

And  thinks  no  blasts  are  nigh. 

Remember  that  the  rose  will  fade, 
And  all  the  beauty  of  the  glade, 
With  all  the  foilage  of  the  shade, 

Shall  droop  and  die  again; 
So  may  the  fondest  blooming  face. 
The  object  of  an  am'rous  race, 
Soon  wither  into  cold  disgrace, 

And  leave  the  heart  in  pain. 

Temptations  hnunt  the  female's  way, 
By  chance  the  fondest  passions  may* 
Allure  to  danger,  quite  astray, 
outh  be  well  aware : 


149 

Be  modest,  virtuous — ever  try, 
Trust  not  the  fancy  of  your  eye, 
Lest  from  your  heart  your  comfort  fly, 
And  leave  a  sorrow  there. 

Behold  the  time  is  drawing  near, 
When  transient  charms  shall  disappear, 
Again  all  nature  shall  be  drear, 

And  chaunt  no  more  to  3-ou ; 
Endure  a  chaste  and  virtuous  toil, 
Enjoy  the  season  with  a  smile, 
\nd  take  a  large  immortal  spoil, 

For  that  shall  be  your  due. 


AN  EVENING  THOUGHT 
THE  vernal  season  bloom'd  around, 

The  sky  was  clear  and  mild, 
I  mus'd  upon  the  scene  profound, 

Without  a  thought  defil'd. 

The  fainting  sun  declin'd  my  view. 

Low  sunken  in  the  west, 
His  golden  beams  through  ether  flew, 

And  charmed  my  thinking  breast. 

Calm  may  my  moments  roll  away, 
And  not  a  crime  be  seen. 


150 

rfor darkening;  clouds  conclude  my  day. 
Nor  tempests  intervene. 

And  when  this  life  on  earth  shall  end. 
And  day  shall  close  in  night; 

Then  may  my  soul  to  heaven  ascend, 
To  hail  supernal  light. 

Then  can  my  friends  in  raptures  say, 

The  pilgrim's  gone  to  rest, 
He's  winged  along  his  airj-  way. 

To  be  forever  blest. 


THOUGHTS  ON  RETIREMENT 

0  could  I  find  some  distant  spot, 
t    Amid  wild  nature's  bowers, 

'Tisthere  I'd  build  my  humble  cot. 
And  spend  remaining  hours. 

1  need  not  then  forget  to  sleep, 

Nor  should  my  soul  repine. 
For  cruel  wrongs  I  need  not  weep. 
Nor  blush  for  deeds  not  mine. 

The  richest  man  I'd  envy  not,    . 

With  all  his  silken  pride, 
I'd  pitiy  his  unhappy  lot, 

With  servants  at  his  side. 


15* 

His  gold,  his  purple  and  his  lace, 

And  all  his  pompous  store, 
Will  run  him  through  an  airy  race, 

And  leave  him  wretched,  poor. 

I  want  my  portion,  not  of  dross, 

Nor  outward  gaudy  show, 
What  this  proud  world  esteems  but  loss- 

And  melancholy,  wo. 

A  golden  treasure  safe  in  heaven, 

A  crown  of  glory  there, 
The  crimes  committed  be  forgiven, 

My  Saviour's  image  bear. 


AN  APOSTROPHE  TO  THE  EVENING  STAR 
LET  me  admire  yon  evening  star, 

Bright  beaming  in  the  west, 
He  rides  on  his  etherial  car, 

To  light  the  world  to  rest. 

The  murmurs  of  the  distant  stream. 

Come  rolling  on  the  ear, 
While  glances  of  his  silv'ry  beam. 

Around  the  groves  appear. 

Alas !  how  short,  though  blest  his  6£ay.; 
With  this  our  drearv  world. 


1  5- 

His  welcome  hours  roll  fast  aw^j  > 
How  soon  in  darkness  furl'd. 

Farewell,  if  thou  must  hasty  go, 

And  leave  me  here  alone, 
Cease  not  to  shine  on  trav'lers  low, 

And  cheer  them  when  they  groan. 

Transcendant  light !  thou  heavenly  beam- 
Now  on  my  soul  arise, 

And  wake  me  from  my  fairy  dream, 
And  brighten  round  my  skies. 

O  never  roll  thyself  away, 

But  shine  forever  clear. 
That  I  may  walk  in  cloudless  day, 

And  loose  my  nightly  fear. 


THE  WONDERS  OF  CREATION. 
I'LL  sing  aloud  creation's  wonders, 

And  praise  my  G  od  in  every  lay, 
And  speak  of  lightnings,  roaring  thunders- 

That  fill  the  heart  with  dread  disnuyy. 
O  stop  ye  vain,  and  look  around  you, 

Behold  the  blackness  of  the  sky, 
The  terrorsofa  God  confound  you, 

As  raving  whirlwinds  pass  you  by 


153 

All  nature  quakes  at  death  so  nigh  her 

And  tremble-  at  the  steps  of  God; 
Electric  matter  dashes  tire, 

And  mountains  shudder  at  his  nod. 
Great  hail  storms  from  the  clouds  descending, 

Fall  rapid  on  the  trembling  ground, 
Strong  trees  before  the  tempest  bending, 

Groan  sadly  with  the  dismal  sound. 

Now  let  me  trace  the  starry  regions. 

When  sable  clouds  are  roll'd  awa\  . 
Astonished  see  the  shining  legions, 

Irradiate  the  close  of  day. 
I  see  the  orbs  of  lucid  glory, 

Roll  swift  along  the  realms  of  ni  i 
But  who  can  tell  their  mystic  sua'; 

Or  trace  their  far  etherial  flight. 

Imagination's  highest  flying, 

Can  neVer  bound  the  ample  place, 
Where  those  revolving  globes  are  v 

In  tracts  of  wide  eternal  space. 
The  moon  in  lunar  blaze  advances, 

And  climbs  the  firmament  on  In 
While  every  star  in  glory  dances, 

Far  round  the  vast  extended  sk}\ 

The  sun  appears  in  brighter  blazes. 
pours  his  floods  of  light  arou 
G  2 


154 

He  rolls  along  his  louder  praise^ 

Nor  once  forgets  the  song  profound. 
His  presence  cheers  the  earth  with  gladness 

And  all  the  nations  hail  him  near ; 
Before  him  flics  chaotic  sadness, 

And  sable  spectres  disappear. 
I  now  will  view  the  earth  around  mc , 

And  see  th'  extended  scene  below ; 
Here  wonders  rising  still  astound  me. 

Where  rivers,  seas  and  fountains  flow. 
There  lies  the  great  expansive  ocean, 

Old  mother  of  the  distant  spring, 
Xlais'd  into  high  tremendous  motion, 

13;.  Neptune's  wide  encircling  wing 
The  river's  far  sequestered  sources, 

Unceasing  search  the  distant  main, 
Thro'  rugged  mountains  burst  their  courses. 

Nor  once  attempt  to  start  in  vain ; 
Through  fertile  vales  they  often  wander, 

In  lonely  deserts  push  their  way  ;   ' 
'Tis  on  their  banks  I  often  ponder, 

Upon  life's  swift  descending  day. 
raron  the  lofty  mountain's  bower. 

I  have  beheld  the  distant  scene. 
rhe  marks  of  a  creative  power, 


The  far  projected  rocks  ascending-. 

Sublimely  fill  the  roving  eye ; 
The  ruder  steeps  around  extending, 

Seem  lost  amidst  the  azure  sky. 
Far  off  I  see  the  rural  village, 

And  wide  surrounding  meadows  there 
The  fertile  vallies  smile  with  tillage, 

And  waving  harvests  richly  bear ; 
Methinks  I  see  the  rustic  smiling, 

While  ruddy  milk  maids  pass  along  . 
O  would  they  in  their  daily  toiling, 

Ascribe  to  God  their  constant  soner. 


A  PRAYER  IiN  TROUBLE 
I  LONG  to  rise  and  soar  away, 

And  leave  distress  behind  ; 
O  would  those  clouds  that  make  me  stray 

Forsake  this  troubled  mind. 
O  would  the  sun  once  more  arise, 

And  shine  forever  bright, 
That  I  might  wipe  my  weeping  ey 

And  bid  farewell  to  night. 
Iod  long  alas!  I've  been  eppr 

With  sorrow.  grief  and  siD^ 


15t) 

And  none  but  Christ  can  make  m< 

Or  give  me  peace  within. 
"Tis  fur  his  sake  Vd  leave  all  tilings. 

Upon  this  earthly  sphere, 
O  had  I  but  celestial  wing-.-, 

I'd  soon  with  him  appear, 


ODE  ON  THE  PRIMEVAL 
MY  riutTing  fancy  flies  along, 

O'er  all  the  wide  creation,' 
The  ard'ous  flight  she  would  pre' 

See  each  and  ev'ry  nation ; 
View  golden  day-  sung, 

When  harmony  abounded, 
And  man  and  Eden  were  but  young. 

And  vocal  praise  resounded. 

She  there  would  pause  and  look  around. 

To  see  the  plains  extended, 
And  hark  to  hear  the  song  profound. 

Of  ev'ry  creature  blended. 
Along  the  margin  of  the  glade, 

Were  copious  rivers  gliding, 
Promiscuous  flocks  beneath  the  shade, 

In  mutual  bliss  abiding;. 


167 

The  elements  of  nature  slept, 

Nor  heard  were  storms  and  thur, 
No  man  had  ever  sigh-d  or  wept, 

Nor  caus'd  to  quake  and  wonder.     . 
Young  zephyrs  gently  fan'd  the  rose, 

And  played  along  the  bow'rs, 
Transporting  joys  unmixed  with  woes, 

R-efreshed  the  cheerful  hours. 

She  there  beholds  all  men  unite, 

No  rumors  heard  among  them, 
The  law  of  love  was  law  of  right, 

Nor  conscious  guilt  had  stung  them 
Propitious  nature  gave  them  bread, 

She  gave  them  milk  and  honey, 
With  liberal  hand  each  one  was  fed, 

Without  the  aid  of  money. 

No  blood  had  stain'd  their  harmless  hands 

Unknown  were  wars  and  plunder,    . 
No  foe  had  found  their  peaceful  lands, 

To  cut.  their  cords  asunder ; 
Shepherds  and  swains  in  conceit  meet, 

To  tune  the  Edenian  lyre, 

ins  and  pnaids  each  other  greet, 

And  join  the  gleeful  choir. 
Their  festivals  were  crown'd  with  joy, 

Ail  ]•  id  ai 


153 

a  cnousand  tongues  the  song  employ, 
Far  distant  from  commotion ; 

No  changing  clime  had  yet  been  seen, 
Nor  elevated  mountains, 

The  vocal  plains  were  ever  green, 
Refresh'd.by  cooling  fountains. 

Long  liv'd  those  sons  in  Eden  born, 

No  foul  disease  annoyed  them,. 
No  hapless  child  was  found  forlorn, 

Nor  pestilence  destroyed  them ; 
A  thousand  years  were  as  a  day — 

A  day  of  purest  pleasure, 
The  sky  serene — it  roll'd  away, 

And  crown'd  their  earthly  treasure. 


THE     ALLUREMENTS   OF    THE    WORLD 
FORSAKEN. 
KIND  heaven  command  my  soul  away, 

From  all  sublunar  things, 
Nor  let  me  make  a  moment's  stay, 
Beneath  a  seraph's  wings. 

I've  seen  the  world  unfold  her  arms, 
And  spread  her  smiles  around, 

Rut  anguish  broods  beneath  her  charms- 
And  hidden  tears  abound. 


159 

ahe  bears  a  cup  of  fancied  joy?. 

And  dances  as  she  goes ; 
The  sons  of  folly  she  decoys, 

And  leaves  them  drown'd  in  woes 

0  let  me  fly  from  her  below, 
And  seek  my  constant  rest, 

Where  tranquil  joys  serenely  flow? 
In  heav'rlly  grace  possess'd. 

Let  me  arise  above  the  fame, 

Of  riches  and  renown, 
Above  an  earthly  monarches  name, 

To  an  immortal  crown. 

Mj  soul  from  all  pollution  clean. 

Shall  soar  above  the  world,, 
Tho'  at  me  all  her  arrows  lean, 

With  all  her  rage  unfurl'd. 

Let  me  from  all  her  haunts  retreat, 
Her  dazzling  charms  forbear, 

Nor  may  the  wandrings  of  my  fact. 
Be  found  familiar  there. 

1  sing  farewell  to  friendship  here, 
To  all  the  world's  delight; 

Her  proudest  glories  disappear, 
And  close  in  endless  niffht. 


ODE  TO  SPRING, 
HAIL  thou  lovely  vernal  season. 

Welcome  to  this  cheerless  earth, 
Welcome  to  our  sense  and  reason, 

Parent  of  reviving  birth. 
Earth  is  full  of  music  sounding, 

Nature  smiles  in  blushing  grace, 
U  thy  presence  swarms  abounding, 

Singing  in  their  new  born  race. 

Now  the  groves  and  distant  mountains, 

Ope  their  umbrage  to  the  day, 
On  the  meads  along  the  fountains, 

Bleating  lambkins  frisk  and  play. 
Wint'ry  storms  have  ceas-d  their  blowing 

Gentle  breezes  fan  the  sky, 
Birds  are  singing,  herds  are  lowing, 

Hungry  beasts  forget  to  sigh. 

Morning  zephyrs  wake  the  roses, 

Sweet  flow'rs  dress  the  vales  below, 
On  the  lawn  the  swain  reposes, 

Hears  the  brooks  in  murmurs  flow ; 
Larks  awake  our  morning  slumbers, 

With  an  early  song  of  praise, 
Vocal  groves  with  various  numbers 

Fill  the  eartb  with  tuneful  k\x?. 


161 

Come  on  ye  mild  refreshing  showers, 

Swell  the  bosom  of  the  earth, 
Wake  up  the  vegitative  ppwers, 

Let  them  have  a  fruitful  birth  ; 
O  let  me  see  the  orchards  blooming, 

Rustics  healthy  plough  the  green, 
The  milk  maid  unassuming, 

Pensive  moving  o'er  the  scene. 

Wake  up  the  heart  and  tune  the  lyre, 

Sing  an  anthem  to  the  sky, 
Let  male  and  female  form  the  choir, 

Raise  seraphic  music  hi:;h  ; 
Join  the  song  ye  pensive,  fearful, 

Sound  it  up  to  God  in  heaven, 
Let  the  soul  be  always  cheerful, 

Always  tranquil,  smooth  and  even. 
\»/\«^ 

AN  APOSTROPHE  TO  THE  MOON 
O  MOON!  arise  fair  nymph  of  heav'n. 

Unveil  thy  lovely  face, 
Shine  o'er  the  hills,  light  up  the  eve'n, 

Nor  stay  thy  welcome  race. 

Thou  comest  forth  a  blushing  maid, 
All  mantled  o'er  with  gold, 

Before  thee  flies  the  misty  shade, 
And  clouds  are  from  thee  roll'd 


162 

Thy  golden  beams  are  hail'd  with  joy, 

Among  the  woodmen  here, 
The  lonely  shepherd  and  his  boy, 

With  new  strung  harps  appear". 
The  smiling  hills  and  mountains  e;low, 

With  glancing  dew-drops  bright, 
The  babbling  brooks  with  pleasure  flow, 

Along  the  silent  night, 
I've  seen  thy  twinkling  beams, 

Along  the  darksome  shade, 
Then  rais'd  alone,  a  solemn  song, 

And  nightly  fears  were  laid. 
But  in  one  night  of  solemn  toll, 

Thy  face  shall  blush  in  blood, 
And  from  thy  orbit  thou  shalt  roll, 

Far  through  a  fiery  flood! 
Thy  deep  blue  shall  then  be  lost, 

Thy  disk  no  more  shall  glow, 
Thyself  in  wrecks  of  matter  tost, 

Shall  to  that  ruin  go  I 
But  now  thou  dost  in  splendor  ride. 

In  thy  etherial  car, 
Expand  thy  smiles  of  gladness  wide. 

And  send  thy  glories  far. 
Disperse  your  clouds  ye  winds  that  blow, 

And  1st  this  maid  of  night, 


163 

In  full  effulgence  blaze  below, 
And  give  the  shades  her  light. 

So  may  my  clouds  of  error  fly, 
Aud  light  within  arise, 

That  I  may  fetr  no  danger  nigh, 
Beneath  my  cloudless  skies. 


THE  WOPXD  TURNED  PEACOCK. 
AMONG  domestic  fowls  I  see, 
What  e'er  his  name  or  nature  be, 
He  is  a  fop,  I  answer  thee, 

And  loves  to  show  his  feathers ; 
When  vernal  suns  serene  the  skies, 
He  struts  about  and  proudly  trie?, 
To  shew  his  graces  to  our  eyes, 

And  looks  disdain  on  others. 
1  grant  'tis  beauty  there  we  find, 
In  that  long  train  he  drags  behind, 
He  looks  quite  gay  and  well  refin'd. 

No  other  half  so  gaudy ; 
He  wide  expands  his  plumage  round, 
Where  azure,  gold  and  blue  abound, 
He  vainly  treads  along  the  ground, 

Craves  praise  from  every  body ! 
But  this  vain  fowl  of  which  we  boast,. 
Qf  all  the  fowls  the  public  toast. 


164 

Is  not  often  used  to  Vroil  or  roast. 

Nor  ever  worth  his  feeding ; 
His  plumage  lasts  not  half  the  year, 
When  that  may  chance  to  disappear. 
He  looks  quite  shabby  full  of  fear, 

And  indicates  low  breeding. 
He  makes  no  music  when  he  sings, 
He  cannot  fly  with  mifledg'd  wings. 
No  profit  to  the  public  brings, 

His  pageantry  has  faded ; 
He's  nothing  left  our  note  to  gain, 
We  all  rejoin  and  now  disdain, 
The  fowl  so  proud  and  once  so  vain, 

And  now  so  just  degraded. 
Thus  the  vain  world  with  all  her  beaux, 
Whendress'd  in  ribbons  and  fine  clothes. 
Her  beauty  and  her  grandeur  shoM  s, 

Disdaining  all  below  her; ' 
Too  much  engaged  to  look  ahead, 
She  turns  and  struts  where  she  may  tread. 
Her  trimmings  all  to  public  spread, 

She  wishes  all  to  know  her. 
Her  sweet  perfume  and  curled  hair, 
Her  silks,  and  bows,  and  ribbons  there. 
Behold  the  sight !  who  can  forbear, 

To  love  and  run  and  take  her ! 


166 

Mic  dazzles  in  her  plumage  gftjj 
She  turns  her  beauties  to  the  da} , 
Ynd  struts  along  the  public  way, 

Ah !  who  could  well  forsake  her. 
She  now  assumes  a  sword  in  hand, 
Turns  gen'ral  giving  loud  command, 
Stands  head  of  the  surrounding  band, 

While  thousands  round  adore  her; 
Herepauletts  and  buttons  blaze, 
She  now  achieves  in  martial  ways. 
The  universal  public  gaze, 

That  flashes  far  before  her. 
She  oft  turns  merchant  and  declares, 
Superior  worth  in  all  her  wares, 
The  giddy  youth  turns  round  and  stares, 

And  sees  them  all  so  pretty ; 
'Tis  there  she  flatters — often  lies, 
Deceives  the  vain,  offends  the  wise, 
And  hides  the  faults  from  him  that  buys, 

Talk3  pleasantly  and  witty. 
She's  a  coquette  in  every  art, 
She  shows  at  first  the  better  part, 
And  charms  the  vain  deluded  hear i 

And  brings  him  on  to  love  her ; 
I  sec  each  sex  and  every  age, 
hi  warm  attachment  all  engage, 


Run  after  her  with  equal  rage3 

Determin'd  all  to  prove  her. 
She  courted  me  with  luring  charms, 
I  fell  within  her  closing  arms, 
My  thirst  allay'd— I  felt  alarms, 

I  wanted  then  to  leave  her ; 
Again  she  clasp'd  me  to  her  breast, 
And  said  she'd  make  me  further  blest. 
Remove  my  fears,  and  give  me  rest, 

But  I  would  not  believe  her. 
I  broke  her  gold  ensnaring  chain. 
And  turn'd  from  her  with  strong  disdain. 
Resolve'd  to  love  her  not  again, 

Nor  hear  her  voice  enchanting- ; 
I  set  my  heart  above  her  name, 
Despis'd  her  with  contempt  and  shame. 
And  now  for  high  immortal  fame. 

My  soul  is  ardent  panting'. 

BIGOTRY  REPROVED. 
A  horrid  thing  pervades  the  land, 
The  priests  and  prophets  in  a  band, 

(CaiPd  by  the  name  of  preacher* 
Direct  the  superstitious  mind, 
What  man  shall  do  his  God  to  find. 

TT^  must  obev  hi«  teachers 


167 

otiose  leaders  cliff1  ring  in  their  mode— - 
Each  traveling  in  a  different  road, 

Create  a  sad  division  ; 
Each  one  believes  he  must  be  right, 
And  vents  at  others  all  his  spite, 

Contemns  them  with  derision. 
Their  prosolytes  around  them  wait, 
To  hear  them  preach,  and  pray  and  prate, 

And  tell  their  growing  numbers ; 
They  love  to  hear  their  preachers  tell, 
The  adverse  sects  will  go  to  hell, 

All  laid  in  guilt  and  slumbers. 
Each  party  has  its  special  rules, 
BorrowVi  from  Bishops  Popes  and  schools* 

And  thinks  them  best  of  any  ; 
And  yet  they  change  to  suit  the  time?. 
And  differ  in  the  different  climes, 

To  catch  the  passing  penny. 
They  are  directed  to  obey, 
And  never  tread  another  way, 

All  others  are  deceivers ; 
All  those  who  do  dissent  from  this, 
Are  not  within  the  road  to  bliss. 

Nor  can  be  true  believers. 
Some  thousands  thus  are  dup'd  and  led, 
By  prejudice  and  priestcraft  fed. 

Who  love  to  hold  contention  ; 


168 

Their  old  confessions  they  defend,  • 
For  human  rules  do  strong  contend. 

The  ground  of  much  dissention. 
Is  this  religion?  God  forbid, 
The  light  within  this  cloud  is  hid, 

My  soul  be  not  deceived ; 
The  Great  Redeemer  never  told 
The  priests  to  separate  his  Fold, 

'  And  this  I've  long  believed. 
I  love  religion — do  declare, 
That  peace  and  love  are  ever  there. 

And  universal  kindness; 
The  Bible  is  my  rule  for  this, 
It  points  me  to  eternal  bliss, 

Dispels  Sectarian  blindness. 
Let  christians  now  unite  and  say, 
We'll  throw  all  human  rules  away, 

And  take  God's  word  to  rule  us ; 
King  Jesus  shall  our  leader  be, 
And  jn  his  name  w.e  will  agree, 

The  priests  no  more  shall  fool  us. 

V/  \',  

WOMAN. 

THE  richest  blessing  man  can  find. 

On  all  the  earth  below, 
Is  woman,  faithful,  true  and  kind 

Blest  soother  of  our  w." 


169 

When  elements  of  nature  rise, 

An  1  threaten  to  devour, 
She,  like  an  angel  of  the  skies, 
Bespeaks  a  niilder  hour. 

When  fortune  frowns  and  we're  distfess'd, 

And  thousand  sorrow?  swell, 
Hkr  mild  caresses  make  us  blest, 

We  think  that  all  is  well. 

In  distant  lands  where  strangers  are 

Unkind,  and  cruel  too, 
She  shows  the  same  affection  there, 

A  tender  heart  and  true. 

She  feels  the  weight  of  all  our  sighs, 
And  all  our  groans  she  hear?, 

ies  oft  with  weeping  eves, 
IS  or  spares  her  streaming  te»rs. 

When  sickness  makes  our  spirits  faint, 

We  languish  and  deplore, 
Her  fondling  smiles  ease  all  -complaint} 

And  we  repine  no  more. 

When  melancholy  fills  the  heart, 

And  darkens  all  the  day, 
She  has  the  pleasing  sov'reign  art, 

To  drive  it  all  away. 
H 


pure  gold  without  her  is  but  dro$ 
For  gold  has  never  bless'd, 

She  is  the  crown  of  every  loss. 
The  richest  crown  pos=ess*d*- 


AN  ELEGY, 
On  the  death  of  Mrs.  Diana  Gowdy,  ofXenu 
Ohio,  daughter  of  John  and  Elizabeth  Mor 
gan,  of  Shenandoah  county,   Va.  ivho  depart 
ed  this  life  \Qth  October,  1827,  in  hope  of  i 
happy  immortality.     Aged  about  27  years. 
O !  HELP  me  muse,  to  sing  that  worthy  name. 
And  give  her  virtues  to  immortal  fame, 
That  generations  yet  unborn  may  read  : 
The  female  graces  all  in  her  agreed. 

In  infant  years  she  was  her  parents' pride, 
No  child  so  comely,  nor  so  lov-d  beside, 
Her  form,  her  beauty.,  and  her  nat'ral  grace, 
Were  mostly  perfect  of  the  female  race. 
Kind  nature  dresther  for  her  fairest  child, 
Beheld  her  kindling  charms  and  fondly  smil'd  ; 
She  stored  the  "virtues  in  her  youthful  breast, 
And  seemM  content  that  she  was  thus  possess'd-; 

She  was  accomplished  with  politest  mien. 
In  all  her  movements  ciegance  was  seen. 


1?1 

Her  modest  worth  and  cultivated  mind, 
Bespoke  her  plainly,  polish'd  and  refin'do 
As  flowing  lillies,  and  the  opening  rose, 
Expand  their  blushes  when  the  zephyr  blows, 
And  pour  their  charming  beauties  on  the  sight, 
And  give  the  raptur'd  soul  supreme  delight, ; 
So  were  a  thousand  charms  upon  her  plac'd, 
None  were  so  beauteous — so  supremely  grae'd ; 
She  was  the  pride  and  toast  of  all  the  fair, 
And  all  delighted  in  her  presence  there. 

She  was  not  careless  of  that  better  part, 
That  lifts  the  soul  and  purifies  the  heart, 
She  learn'd  her  Saviour,  and  his  laws  obey'd^ 
And  safe  in  heaven  her  future  hope  she  laid; 
Her  soul  was  pious,  innocent  and  mild, 
To  heaven  related,  nor  by  earth  beguiled. 

In  her  full  bloom  arriv'd  her  bridal  day, 
Her  consort  hVd  in  regions  far  away, 
Few  days  were  passM,  she  left  her  native  land^A 
And  took  her  distant  home  where  Xenia  stands. 

She  grae'd  the  station  of  a  virtuous  wife, 
And  hVd  remote  from  vanity  and  strife ; 
With  gen'roushand  she  often  blest  the  poor, 
Who  sought  a  pittance  at  her  parlor  door, 
Her  name  was  honored,  and  her  name  was  dear, 
A+A  eaunded  sweet  to  every  list'ning  ear, 


172 

She  was  too  good  on  earth  to  be  contm'ti^ 
Her  soul  was  fit  with  angels  to  be  join'd. 

Her  bridal  years  were  few — they  roll'd  away. 
And  brought  distress,  a  mournful  weeping  day ; 
Stern  death  anproach'd,  &  in  his  arms  she  slept. 
Her  husband,  friends,  &  distant  stranrerswept ; 
She  left  a  husband  drown1  d  in  flowing;  tears, 
And  solemn  gloom  'mong  num'rous  friends  ap-j 

pears ; 
No  time  nor  place,  can  wipe  away  the  grief, 
That  bursted  from  their  hearts  without  relief. 
O!  dreadful  day!  that  saw  her  buried  deep 
In  silent  dust!  how  did  spectators  weep  ; 
And  while  their  streaming  tears  fell  from  their 

eyes, 
Her  soul  ascended  to  the  upper  skies. 

What  anguish  wrung  her   tender  parents' 
breasts, 
When  first  they  heard,  "m  dust  Diana  rests ;" 
Their  house  was  fill'd  with  mourning  and  with 

gloom, 
Far  from  Diana's  sacred  honor'd  tomb! 
Could  they  have  wept  around  her  dying  bed. 
Could  they  have  seen  her  lying  pale  and  dead, 
Could  they  have  walk'd  the  solemn  fun'ral  step, 
And  seen  the  spot  where  their  Diana  slept! 
They  could  have  borne  their  grief  with  less  dis- 

pair, 


175 

io  bid  farewell  to  dear  Diana  there! 

She  calmly   died,  her  eyes  were  clos'd  in 
peace, 
And  all  her  sorrows  in  one  moment  cease; 
The  angels  met  her  at  death's  iron  door, 
And  safeconvey'd  her  to  the  heavenly  shore! 
Methinks  she  mounted  on  celestial  wines, 
And  there  with  christians  &  with  seraphs  sings! 
Why  weep,  ye  parents?  Your  Diana  stands, 
EnroiiM  in  dory  in  celestial  lands ; 
Your  child  has  left  a  painful  world  below, 
And  found  a  land  where  living  pleasures  flow. 

No  fell  disease  to  fade  her  beauty  there, 
No  parting  pains,  nor  world's  distrcssinc:  care, 
She   dwells  in  peace — o'er  tyrant  death  she 

reigns, 
And   wears  her  crown  in  heaven's    supernal 


plains. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NIGHT. 

HOW  dull,  how  dark,  how  sable  is  the  night, 
She's  hid  creation  from  my  raptur'd  sight, 
Horrific  clouds  come  rolling  round  the  sky, 
And  on  the  hills  in  tow'rinjj  columns  lie! 
The    listant  vale  i-  wra  i]  "d  in  silent  gloom, 
W7here  darkling  birds  their  boding  notes  resume, 


174 

ISo  twinkling  star  thro'  opening  clouds  appears, 
Nor  brighter  moon  to  banish  nightly  fears,' 
But  winds  loud  howling  in  the  mountain  far, 
Pcush  on  amain  in  their  ether'al  car; 
A  sullen  breeze  drives  wide  the  cottage  door, 
And  warns  the  owner  to  prepare  for  more. 
The  valley  stream  slow  murmuc&to  the  ear, 
But  murmursinournful  as  the  breezes  veer. 

From  yon  lone  tree,not  distant  from  the  grave, 
"Where  lie  the  wise,  the  coward  and  the  brave, 
I  hear  the  owl  long  hooting  o'er  the  dead, 
Along  the  place  where  ghostly  shadows  sped ! 
Far  distant,  where  the  lonely  cottage  stands, 
Beside  the  gurgling  brook,  in  wilder'd  lands, 
The  howling  dog  is  heard — the  echoes  mourn. 
And  on  the  quivering  breeze  are  distant  borne. 

The  stag  lies  snuffing  on  the  mountain  side, 
The  timid  hind,  his  faithful,  bouncing  bride, 
Becomes  alar-m'd  but  hears  the  breezes  pass 
His  spiry  horns — then  nips  the  mossy  grass. 
The  bounding  roe  is  in  the  rocky  cleft, 
In  nightly  slumbers  he  is  lonely  left; 
The  heath  cock's  head  is  hid  beneath  his  wing, 
The  woody  warblers  have  forgot  to  sing. 
The  fearless  beast9  and  all  the  merry  birds, 
Haye  sought  retreat,  and  the  domestic  herds. 


11 s 

•So  sounds  concordant  in  the  passing  arr, 
The  owl's  loud  hoots,  are  only  wafted  there ; 
Or  yelling  wolf  along  the  cottage  way, 
Or  barking  fox  who  seeks  his  nightly  prey. 

The  lonely  stranger  in  the  desert  wide, 
Has  lost  his  way,   and  knows  not  where  to 

guide ; 
Thro'  shrubs  and  thorns,  a  devious  course  he 

bends, 
In  miry  bogs,  in  winding  rills  descends ; 
He  fears  to  tread,  he  fears  the  ghosts  of  night, 
He  trembling  goes,  but  wanders  from  the  right. 
The  old  trees  groan  along  the  silent  ground. 
And  passing  goblins  whisper  in  the  sound ! 
Alas  I  he  tries,  but  tries  in  vain  to  know, 
Where  he  should  find  a  safer  path  to  go ; 
He  finds  no  friend  to  lend  him  timely  aid, 
But  sinks  in  death  amid  the  gloomy  shade! 

So  would  the  prodigal  with  flowing  eyes, 
With  lifted  hands  and  penitential  cries, 
Deplore  his  wayward  course  so  eager  run, 
But  now  so  wretched — nought  but  mis'ry  won. 

My  friends  receive  the  pilgrim  for  the  night, 
Solace  his  sorrows  till  the  morning  light, 
And  when  his  journey  and  his  days  shall  close, 
Q  /ray  no  fears  disturb  his  last  repose.. 


176 

A  REFLECTION  ON  READING  HISTORY 

THE  biasing  sun  in  rapid  haste, 

Conveys  the  time  away, 
And  so  the  ancient  ages  waste, 

And  splendid  works  decay. 

I've  read  of  ancient  cruel  war, 

That  wakens  up  my  soul, 
I  see  the  tide  of  blood  afar, 

And  seas  of  crimson  roll. 

What  nave  my  ancient  fathers  done* 

How  have  the  sages  fled ! 
The}  fell  m  battles  lost  or  won, 

All  mingled  with  the  dead. 

The  lofty  spires  and  towers  they  made, 

The  grandeur  of  a  day, 
Arc  -ong  a^o  in  rubbish  laid, 

Like  shadow's  fled  away. 

The  r.rou  'est  kings  who  nations  sway'da 
Have  fallc  i  from  the  <hrone, 

Death  called  them  to  his  lonely  shade, 
And  made  their  power  his  own. 

What  is  all  this  nomn  I  see? 

This  grasp  for  human  power? 
A  pomp  of  nothing!  and  'twill  flee., 

In  tne  ensuing  hour, 


177 


How  long  in  dust  my  fathers  sleeps 

I  soon  must  follow  there ; 
Those  eyes  shall  then  forget  to  weep, 

And  all  those  tears  forbear. 


AN  ELEGY, 

On  the  death  of  Mrs.  Nesmith,  who  departed 
this  life  May  l#22« 

SOME'poets  choose  the  names  of  noble  birth  ^ 
To  sound  their  fame  far  thro'  the  list'ning  earth, 
And  tell  they  conquered  or  they  rul'd  a  throne, 
While  trembling  thousands  their  dominion  own. 

But  I  will  sing  a  name  in  earth  remote 3 
(O  for  po'etic  fire  to  touch  my  note) 
And  tell  the  virtue  and  the  grace  that  lie. 
Concealed  from  notice  of  the  public  eye. 
An  a^ed  female,  youthful  once  and  gaj  , 
That  bloom'd  as  roses  in  the  vernal  day ; 
Her  youth  she  spent  in  fashion's  flowry  road, 
Perhaps  forgetful  of  herself  and  God  ! 

She  early  wedded  to  a  man  unknown 
To  smiling  fortune,  or  to  high  renown, 
Became  obscure  and  by  the  world  oppres 
By  hard  misfortune  and  by  sin  distressed  : 
4Trr  worldly  prospects  from  her  cottage  fled 
112 


Like  nootwlay  shadows,  all  her  pleasures 
And. left  her  hopeless  in  the  world  below, 
To  drink  unmixed  the  cup  of  human  woe. 

She  found  this  life  a  burden  hard  to  bear. 
And  night  had  sunk  in  clouds  of  dark  despair ; 
But  O,  that  God  who  rules  in  worlds  on  high, 
Loud  bade  her  stop,  for  she  should  never  dir  : 
That  word  from  heaven  like  ten- fold  thunders 

roll, 
Addressed  the  sorrows  of  her  sinking  soul : 
aLong  hast  thou  lingered  on  this  weeping  rale, 
Where  grief  abounds  and  thy  life's  comforts 

fail; 
But  hast  thou  notsinn'd  and  sinn'd  a  thousand 

ways — 
Withheld  from  God  thy  service  and  thy  prai-e?- 
Dost  thou  not  fear  to  stand  before  his  throne, 
"Where  all  thy  crimes  must  shortly  be  made 

known  ? 
This  life  at  which  thou  hast  rcpin'd  so  long. 
For  thine  eternal  bliss  I  will  prolong." 
These  words  address-d,  like  brilliant  floods  of 

day. 
From  oil' her  soul  rent  all  the  clouds  away  ; 
She  then  beheld  herself— herself  accused. 
She  saw  her  Saviour  by  her  sins  abused: 

fit  to  live  and  now  afrn*d  to  die. 


179 

Aloud  for  mercy  she  began  lo  cry — 
She  sought  a  blessing  such  as  God  bestows. 
And  found  redemption  from  her  former  woes; 
Her  soul  releas'd,  to  love  divine  restored, 
The  world  forgotten  was  no  more  deplored. 
By  grace  illum'd,  by  grace  of  God  forgiven, 
She  look'd  for  her  reward  laid  up  in  heaven. 

Like  patient  lambs  to  strokes  of  death  resign. 
She  bears  her  grief  and  doth  no  more  repine; 
The  pomp  of  fashion  and  the  lap  of  ease, 
Her  humble  soul  could  now  no  longer  please — 
This  earth  too  mean  to  seek  a  resting  place, 
She  found  a  rest — a  rest  in  heavenly  grace. 
Renew'd  in  heart,  she  leads  a  pious  life, 
A  fondling  mother  and  a  virtuous  wife. 

Like    well  oil'd  lamps    bestow  a    brilliant 
light, 
To  show  the  path  in  a  bewildered  night, 
So  her  example  all  around  her  blazM, 
"While  saints  admir'd  &  oarel ess  sinners  gazld. 
She  read  the  Bible,  and  by  faith  she   found, 
Celestial  manna  flow -d  on  earthly  ground  ; 
She  built  her  hope  on  that  foundation  stone, 
\nd  sought  the  aid  which  comes  from  God  a- 
lone. 

Like  eagles  soar  and  in  their  lofty  flight, 
J <eave  meaner  pro?po.~t:;  far  bcaeath  their  sigh!- 


180 

So  did  her  soul  and  her  affections  rise, 
Is  or  found  a  home  beneath  the  upper  skies. 
She  was  a  christian,  and  to  christians  joined, 
And  not  in  word — to  works  oflove  inclin'd. 
No  selfish  sect  nor  human  creed  could  hold, 
Her  pious  soul  from  loving  all  the  fold. 
INro  grace  nor  virtue  that  adorns  our  race, 
Butseem'd  with  her  to  find  a  welcome  place. 
When  health  and  friends  would  in  her  cottage 

meet, 
She  sat  like  Mary  at  her  Saviour's  feet; 
In  sickness  sheresign'd  herself  to  God, 
And  bore  with  patience  the  afflicting  rod, 
When  death  approach- d,  with  age  her  head  was 

gray, 
She  met  the  stroke  without  the  least  dismay. 
A  husband,  sons  and  daughters  wept  around, 
A  mother,  who  had  won  the  heavenly  ground. 
They  saw  the  triumphs  of  a  Saviour's  blood, 
Disparting  all  the  rage  of  Jordan's  flood ! 
They  saw  a  saint  triumphant  gain  the  shore, 
Where  tempests  rage  and  storms  arise  no  more ; 
They  heard  her  last  expiring  words  declare, 
"Come  follow  me,  a  crown  of  glory  wear.5' 
If  absent  souls  can  speak  to  mortal's  ear, 
O'  give  attention  and  profoundly  hear; 
Methinks  I  hep*  the  sister's  voice  so  sweet, 


181 

Where  ransorn'd  saints  and  angels  kindly  meet , 
Recounting  ail  her  worldly  troubles  o'er, 
Where  souls  in  triumph  are  distress'd  no  more. 

Do  1  imagine  that  I  hear  her  say — 
"O  children  stop  if  in  the  downward  way! 
Return  from  sin  nor  onward  further  go, 
Lest  you  may  sink  in  dreadful  depths  of  wo  : 
My  pious  son,  my  pious  daughter  too, 
Hold  on  your  way,  your  Saviour  still  pursue; 
Not  long  till  death  shall  ope  the  gates  of  bliss, 
And  let  our  ransoni'd  souls  each  other  kiss. 

Here  pains  forgotten — souls  exalted  high, 
Receive  full  pleasure  in  the  boundless  sky ; 
Stand  firm  my  children  in  a  tempter's  land, 
Go  on  to  conquer — reach  the  heavenly  strand ; 
And  here  we'll  meet  on  King  Immanuel's  shore, 
Where  grief  &  pain  &  death  distress  no  more." 


OLD  AGE. 
My  beauty  fades,  my  eyes  grow  dim. 

My  f;  cion decay, 

I  feel  that  every  active  limb, 

Must  soon  be  lifeless  clay. 

This  lamp  of  life  that  burns  below. 
Will  soon  exhaust  and  die. 


182 

This  vital  fount  shall  cease  to  now. 
And  all  its  streams  be  dry. 

I  will  not  tremble  at  the  stroke, 

If  Christ  but  lend  his  aid, 
Although  the  thread  of  life  be  broke. 

Thisilesh in  dust  be  laid. 

And  though  this  mortal  frame  repose, 

Beneath  the  grassy  clod, 
My  ransom3 d  soul  shall  rest' with  those 

Who  worship  with  their  God. 

Then  it  shall  join  in  holy  song, 

In  praises  all  divine, 
With  the  triumphant  heavenly' throng, 

In  endless  aces  shine. 


DREAM— SUCH  AS  POLT>  FEIGN. 
FAR  in  a  grove  alone  I  stray  Hi, 

And  sought  a  silent  bower, 
I  sat  me  down  beneath  the  shade, 

To  muse  the  happy  hour. 

The  scene  was  charming  to  my  sight 

The  wild  birds  sweetly 
•  The  vocal  woods  gave  me  delight. 

And  far  around  me  ra 


rheptace  was  paradise  to  me, 

_My  thoughts  rov'd  on  amain, 
I'd  found  the  ^  ot  I  longld  to  see, 

And  bliss  without  a  pain. 
The  sweetest  feelings  of  the  soul, 

In  one  celestial  stream, 
Bore  me  away  with  sweet  control, 

In  a  seraphic  dream. 
Tvlethought  I  saw  a  damsel  fair, 

And  tears  were  in  her  eyes, 
Her  head,  her  breast  and  arms  were  barc4 

I  heard  her  bursting  sighs. 
I  heard  her  call,  and  call  aloud, 

To  those  who  passed  her  by, 
But  few  among  the  busy  crowd, 

Gave  her  the  least  reply. 
I  stopped  and  look'-d  her  in  the  face — • 

*Twas  then  she  sweetly  smil'd, 
Her  features  shone  with  heavenly  grace, 

Far  more  than  nature's  child. 
I  stepp'd  toward  her  and  I  cried,. 

O  tell  to  me  thy  name, 
And  tell  me  where  thou  dost  abide, 

And  whence  thy  sorrows  came. 
With  diuidence  and  down  cast  eye. 
okc, 


184 

iped  a  tear  and  gave  a 
And  thus  her  silence  broke. ' 

{tMy  name  is  Charity  or  Love, 
Descended  from  the  skies, 

My  native  home  is  heaven  above. 
Where  no  distresses  ri=e. 

I  left  the  happy  millions  there, 

To  visit  all  mankind, 
I  would  their  restless  souls  prepare, 

A  better  world  to  find. 

I  long  have  called  to  every  class*, 

1  o  take  me  by  the  ham  I , 
But  some  would  mock  and  deaily  pass 

And  let  me  weeping  stand. 

Some  years  agol  passed  along-, 

Where  multitudes  reside, 
And  several  of  the  gazing  throng, 

Engaged  me  for  their  bride. 

The  merchants  took  me  in  their  store  v 

And  learned  of  me  to  smile, 
Cut  this  they  done  to  sell  the  more. 
id  gain  the  peasant's  toil. 

.Mechanics  too,  of  every  kind. 
Entreated  me  full  v 


185 

While  flatt'ry  and  deceit  could  find, 
A  bitter  way  to  Bell, 

But  now  the  times  severe  have  grown. 

And  labor  gives  no  gain, 
Their  hearts  arc  hard  as  hardest  stone> 

And  me  they  all  disdain. 

Theyfve  turned  me  from  their  parlor  doors, 

And  stonM  me  in  the  street, 
I  find  no  place  upon  their  floors, 

Nor  aught  of  them  to  eat! 

I  then  besought  the  priestly  clan, 

To  gain  a  shelter  there, 
Some  took  me  in  and  soon  began 3 

To  celebrate  the  fair. 

Thev'd  drew  me  im  on  Sabbath  day, 

And  lead   me. to  the  place, 
Where  hundreds  meet  to  sing  and  pray, 

And  wait  for  heavenly  grace. 

But  all  the  week  their  acts  nroclaim'd, 

Their  negligence  to  me, 
They  seldom  loved  to  hear  me  nam'd, 

And  would  my  presence  flee. 

Their  love  to  me  was  not  unfeigned. 
But  few  I  found  were  true, 


I8u 

When  they  their  worldly  objects  gainfcck 
They  bade  me  long  adieu. 

They've  led  me  up  the  pulpit  stair* 
To  preach  abroad  my  fame, 

But  oft  have  scandalized  me  there. 
And  pushed  me  down  with  shame. 

They  often  rave  and  drive  me  far, 
From  where  they  stand  to  preach, 

And  in  the  zeal  of  pulpit  war, 
Their  prejudices  teach. 

They  all  agree  and  have  combin'c}, . 

To  kill  me  if  they  can, 
They've  hunted  up  and  down  to  find, 

And  drive  me  from  their  clan. 

This  is  the  cause,  young  man  I  tell, 

Why  1  must  wander  here, 
And  why  so  high  my  sorrows  swell.. 

And  I  so  sad  appear. 

I  now  must  seek  the  wilderness. 

Nor  find  a  cottage  nigh, 
I  there  must  wail  my  deep  distress,^ 

And  vent  for  man  my  sigh." 

I'll  go  with  thee,  I  loudly  said, 
And  give  theemy  embrace, 


137 

With  thee,  for  man  my  tears  111  shed 

In  the  sequestered  place. 
These  words  addressed,  I  then  awoke, 

And  pondered  well  the  theme, 
And  O !  how  charm  d  by  her  that  spoke,, 

The  substance  of  my  dream. 


ON  THOUGHT. 
AMAZING  thought!  how  rapid  dost  thou  fly  I 
O  er  all  the  world  and  round  the  ample  sky, 
Thou  dost  the  meads  and  flowry  plains  survey, 
Where  nature  wantons  in  delightful  play. 
From  shade  to  shade  thy  golden  wings  have 

flown, 
From  pole  to  pole,  and  thro'  the  burning  zone. 
The  towring  hill  where  human  never  trod, 
Where  lofty  cedars  to  the  whirlwinds  nod, 
Thou  dost  ascend  and  fearless  travel  there, 
And  stretch  thy  soaring  pinions  in  the  air. 
Stupendous  mounts,  projected  in  the  cloud, 
Wrhere   forked  lightnings  play,  and  tempests 

shroud, 
Where  rocky  walls  sublimely  fdl  the  sight, 
Thou  dost  unwearied  speed  thy  wondrous  flight. 
Thou  canst  delight  in  beauties  of  the  ,;lade, 
And  play  along  the  wild  sequcster'd  shade^ 


188 

And  trace  the  rivers  as  their  courses  lead^ 
Along  the  mountains  and  the  grassy  mead. 
Where  rising  towns  in  beauteous  order  stand, 
And  superb  cities  deck  the  sea-side  strand ; 
Where  smoky  hamlets  thro'  the  country  rise,  • 
And  rural  landscapes  bloom  beneath  the  skies; 
There  thou  dost  fly  and  revel  on  the  scene, 
And  widely  wing  creation's  vernal  green. 
Where  /Etna  struggles  and  emits  her  sm;jke, 
Or  Hekla  s  mouth  with  burning  cinders  choke, 
Thy  vent  rous  wings  have  borne  the  in  thy 

race, 
To  view  the  wonders  of  the  dreadfil  place. 
The  gloomy  caverns  underneath  the  ground, 
Thou  dost  survey  and  wing  the  dread  profound ; 
In  martial  fields  where  death  and  fury  fly, 
And  roaring  canons  shake  the  smoul  I'ririgsky, 
Along  the  place  in  trembling  thou  hast  fled, 
And  sadly  saw  the  dying  an''  the  dead. 
When  sable  night  is  muffled  round  the  spheres. 
And  gloom  and  sadness  fill  the  world  with  fears. 
Then  thou  art  fearless,  ever  on  the  flight 
The  darkest  abyss  naked  to  thy  sight ! 
When  fierce  tornadoes  travel  o'er  the  world, 
And  sumptuous  cities  are  in  ruin  hurlci, 
In  dread  confusion  thou  dost  hover  there, 
Or  trace  the  whirling  storm  along  the  air. 


189 

Thy  wakeful  nature  never  knows  to  sleepy 
Thou  brav'st  the  billows  of  the  flowing  deep, 
Thou  climb'st  the  tow'ring  waves  in  midnight 

hours, 
And  smoothly  glid'st  above  their  frightful  pow'rs 

The  earth  too  narrow  for  thy  ample  bounds, 
Thou  dost  ascend  and  try  the  heavenly  grounds^ 
In  floating  ether  thou  hast  found  the  way, 
To  trace  the  planets  round  the  source  of  day . 
In  thy  adventures  thou  hast  found  the  land, 
Where  trees  ambrosial  and  a  Saviour  stand. 
The  blooming  lilly  and  the  vernal  spring, 
There  saints  immortal  and  the  angels  sing. 
O  dwell-  forever  in  that  happy  place, 
There  grow  and  flourish  on  a  Saviour's  grace, 
Rove  o'er  the  plains  and  rise  th'  eternal  height, 
And  stay  thyself  in  uncreated  light. 


A  WORD  TO  THE  FAIR. 

YE  beauteous  fair,  if  you'd  prepare, 

To  live  a  happy  life, 
You  must  discern  and  fully  learn, 

The  pleasures  of  a  wife. 

While  you  are  younT,  your  path  is  hung, 
With  snares  on  every  side. 


You  look  for  bliss,  but  0  you  mi=£f 
Till  you  become  a  bride. 

Then  if  you  can  select  a  man, 

And  give  him  all  your  heart, 
When  this  you  do  be  ever  true, 

Nor  act  the  coquette's  part. 
But  first  remind,  be  sure  to  find? 

A  man  of  sober  name. 
Let  him  be  found,  of  morals  sounds 
«•  £nd  long  of  virtuous  fame. 
'  "Know  him  to  be,  from  vices" free, 

A  man  of  generous  mind, 
And  one  that  feels,  another's  ills, 

Affectionate  and  kind. 
A  handsome  face,  in  am'rous  race, 

Too  often  does  decoy, 
And  riches  are  sometimes  a  snare, 

And  may  your  bliss  destroy. 

Now  ask  your  heart,  if  he's  the  part* 

You  only  do  admire  1 
Or  is  it  gold?  which  you  behold. 

That  kindles  your  desire? 
As  men  deceive,  don't  you  believe, 
.    Your  ev'ry  lover's  tale, 
If  love  should  pain,  you  must 

Nor  let  it  soon  Drerail 


19! 

fee  not  in  haste,  but  always  chaste* 

Be  modest  and  refin'd, 
And  when  you  can,  obtain  the  man, 

To  whom  you  would  be  join'd. 
Let  him  be  sure  your  heart  is  pure, 

And  wait  lor  hymen's  tic, 
To  bless  the  day,  when  females  may, 

With  their  fond  wish  comply. 


DIALOGUE 

Between  Missouri,  the  Eastern  States,  the  South* 
cm  States,  and  Middle  States,  during  the  ses- 
sion of  Congress  of  1821,  on  the   Missouri 
Question. 
Missouri  to  the  eastern  states 
DEAR  sisters  why  are  you  so  bold, 

That  you  reject  my  motion, 
Last  year  I  was  in  Union  roll'd, 

To  have  a  legal  portion; 
But  now  your  wit  and  language  strain, 

And  in  the  Congress  thunder, 
You  strive  to  turn  me  off  again, 
And  cut  our  bands  asunder. 
You  wish  me  not  to  hold  a  slave, 
My  black  and  stolen  treasure. 


Borne  motive  else  you  seem  to  have* 

111  tell  you  at  my  leisure; 
I  think  you  wish  to  raise  ajar, 

And  sound  the  nation's  feeling, 
To  light  the  match  of  civil  war, 

And  set  us  all  to  reeling. 

You  can  but  know  what  you  have  done5 

Is  very  bold  and  daring, 
Thro'  all  the  South  loud  clamors  run, 

A  fearful  omen  wearing ; 
My  sister  states  who  hold  their  blacksj 

Are  all  with  me  united, 
We  will  retain  those  precious  snacks, 

And  not  by  you  be  flighted. 

You  now  pretend  to  say  'tis  wrong, 

That  bondage  be  admitted, 
I  cannot  hold  the  sable  throng, 

And  be  in  Congress  seated; 
You  err  in  this  politic  strife, 

Now  give  the  subject  over, 
And  lefme  owrf  what's  dear  aslifej 

Your  spleen  no  more  discover. 

Eastern  states  to  Missouri* 
You  call  us  sifters,  very  well, 
•But  if  we're  true  relation* 


293 

You  can  no  longer  buy  and  fell, 

The  freedom  of  creation; 
We'll  never  give  our  vole  again, 

That  slavery  be  extei 

We'll  save  >ou  of  the  mora]  stain, 
Tho1  you  be  much  offended. 

Our  motive's  pure,  our  cause  is  good, 

We^ve  nothing  kept  concealed, 
On  freedom  s  side  we  long  have  stoodj 

And  nothing;  el-e  revealed  ; 
The  Constitution  is  our  guide, 

In  all  our  long-  debating, 
By  it  3  ou  must  be  hud  aside, 

Though  all  your  angry  prating. 

At  this  you  i;rin  and  wildly  stare, 

And  blame  the  true  heart  Yankee, 
You  raise  the  strife  you  cannot  bear, 

And  then  you  call  us  pranky  ; 
No  other  cause  we  have  in  view, 

No  scheme  for  war  we're  laying, 
But  that  you  may  not  hold  a  slave, 

We  wish  in  e\r1ry  saying. 

Southern  states  to  the  eastern  states 
Dear  sisters  we  must  tell  you  plain, 
In  this  dispute  we  blame  you, 

1 


194 

Because  this  point  you  long  maintain,- 

It  surely  wilJ  defame  you ; 
Ourproperty  we  will  defend, 

In  spile  of  all  your  brav'r}r, 
We  cannot  think  to  condescend, 

To  loose  the  pelf  of  slavery. 

Let  us  alone  who  love  the  trade9 

Qfbart'ring  human  nature, 
Let  this  young  nymph*  be  sister  made* 

And  now  no  longer  hate  her; 
You  boast  of  freedom,  so  do  we, 

Then  let  us  cease  our  jarring, 
Lest  we  may  live  to  see  the  day, 

"When  sisters  may  be  warring. 

Middle  states  to  the  southern  states, 
Injustice  we  no  more  forbear, 

But  loudly  speak  for  freedom, 
To  hold  your  slaves  it  is  not  fair, 

To  whip  and  starve  and  bleed  'em; 
And  if  the  cold  and  stony   heart, 

Will  hold  those  sons  of  sorrow, 
Missouri  shall  not  have  a  part, 

IS'o  bondage  from  you  borrow. 

We  have  no  wish  to  raise  a  fight, 
But  on  this  ground  wc  settle, 

-Missouri. 


195 

We  will  defend  lair  freedom's  right, 

With  all  our  might  and  mettle; 
•Let  this  young  nymph  wash  out  her  shame, 
And  then  we  will  receive  her, 

Until  she  does,  we'll  spurn  her  name, 
And  keep  her  out  forever. 

The  Poet  to  all. 
Restrain  your  tongues  upon. this  theme* 

And  let  no  more  be  spoken, 
Or  else,  it  is  no  idle  dream, 

Our  hands  will  soon  be  broken ; 
I  am  no  friend  to  human  sale?, 

Nor  to  such  loud  contention?, 
O'er  all  the  states  great  tear  prevail:, 

That  you  will  make  dissections. 

I  would  advise  to  give,  and  take, 

And  not  be  over  rigid, 
Wind  up  disputes  for  friendship's  sake. 

Nor  longer  be  so  frigid  ; 
'Let  all  unite  before  you  rise, 

And  be  no  more  divided, 
And  strengthen  all  (lie  nation's  ties, 

On  this  be  all  decided. 

AJN[  ATOSTROPHETO  GEN.  BRADDOCK. 

T>RADDOCK!  the  pride  of  Britain'-  h 
Commander  of  her  (rain.' 


190: 

"v\  ho  drove,  in  war  the  Gallic  bai. 

Or  slew  them  on  the  plain. 
Thy  steed  was  like  the  bounding  roe, 

Thy  sword  a  blaze  of  fire, 
Thy  charge  upon  th'  invading  foe. 

Like  winter  whirlwinds  dire. 
Thy  wrath  was  like  the  gathering  storm. 

That  darkens  round  the  day, 
When  trembling  trees  in  sad  deform, 

Would  gladly  flee  away. 
Like  lightning  gleams  across  the  sky, 

And  wings  destruction  far, 
The  terrors  of  thy  sword  did  fly, 

Along  the  field  of  war. 
Thy  voice  was  like  the  rolling  floods, 

That  tumbles  from  the  hills, 
That  sweeps  the  cottage  of  the  woods, 

And  floats  away  the  rills. 

Or'like  loud  thunder  to  thy  foes, 

Were  words  of  thy  command, 
Thy  conq'ringarm  with  death  bestow?, 

The  reeking  trembling  land  ! 
Like  a  tall  oak  that  lifts  its  head, 

And  braves  the  winter's  sky ; 
So  Braddock  stood — nor  did  he  dread. 

The  hosts  that  pass  d  him  by. 


197 

Thv  arm  rcclaim'd  the  bloody  field, 

From  Gallia's  strongest  host, 
The  vanquish' d  foes  th?  contest  yield— 

The  arduous  contest  lost. 
To  save  thy  brethren  from  the  grave, 

And  peace  to  them  restore, 
Thou  sail'dst  across  th'  Atlantic  wave, 

And  hail'd  Columbia's  shore. 
Thy  march  was  thro'  a  desert  wide, 

To  meet  the  bloody  si^ht, 
George  Washington  was  at  thy  side — 

Advised  thee  how  to  fight. 
ButO!  thy  heart  disdain'd  the  thought, 

Of  learning  arts  of  war, 
Or  by  a  WntdukinV  to  be  taught, 

From  Britain's  Island  far. 
But  soon  alas !  the  savage  yell, 

Resounded  thro1  the  vale ; 
Like  blighted  figs  thy  soldiers  fell, 

And  the  sad  day  bewail. 
Twas  far  in  mountains  of  the  west> 

That  Braddock  bravely  bled, 
JTis  there  thy  bones  are  now  at  rest, 

Among  the  silent  dead. 
Tho'  once  so  vali mt  and  so  brave, 

That  Gallia  dreaded  thee, 


m 

But  now  thy  dwelling  is  the  grave. 

Beneath  a  mournful  .tree. 
How  low  thy  mansion  and  thy  head. 

In  silence  thou  dost  dwell, 
A  grave  of  earth  is  now  thy  bed,  . 

A  loathsome  wormy  cell. 
Calm  as  the  lake  thy  peaceful  breast. 

When  winds  distress  no  more, 
When  stormy  winds  are  lulld  to  rest, 

Nor  beat  upon  the  shore. 
Two  mossy  stones  that  stand  for  thee, 

Are  only  left  to  sajr : 
<;Braddock  the  great,  behold  and  see, 

Has  moulder' d  here  in  clay." 
No  mother  left  to  mourn  thee  slain. 

Nor  wife  to  call  thy  name, 
The  hooting  owls  o'er  thee  complain. 

Thy  lonely  grave  proclaim. 
The  trees  that  grow  around  the  spot* 

The  waving  thistles  there, 
This  hero's  name  have  ne'er  forgot, 

But  waft  it  on  the  air. ' 
The  stranger  when  he  passes  by 

Thy  grave  o'er  grown  with  moss 
Shall  say  uGreat  Braddock  here  doth  Iiea 

His  nation's  dearest  loss," 


199 

M  AN— A  COMPLICATED  ANIMAL. 
MAN'S  nature  is  so  mix'd  and  wrought, 
So  various  in  his  act  and  thought, 
That  all  the  beasts  which  stalk  the  earth, 
And  insects  of  degraded  birth, 
Are  seen  in  him — in  him  they  move, 
In  him  the}r  hate,  devour  and  love. 

The  Lion  in  man's  anger  growls, 
In  man's  ambition  there  he  scowls^ 
JIc  treats  his  weaker  fellows  low, 
And  boasts  his  courage  and  the  woe , 
The  warrior  walks  the  martial  field, 
And  thousands  to  his  prowess  yield, 
He  stalks  the  conqueror  of  the  plains, 
And  like  the  Lion  lives  and  reigns; 
He  moves  in  majesty  and  splendor, 
And  to  this  Lion  all  surrender. 

In  man's  revenge  the  Tiger  Turks, 
He's  fierce  and  cruel  in  his  works  ; 
In  scenes  of  blood  he  takes  delight, 
And  seeks  his  prey  in  silent  night, 
When  none  suspect  their  danger  near^ 
He  plunges  deep  his  fatal  spear, 
And  sates  in  gore,  his  cursed  passion, 
Much  like  the  Tiger's  dreaded  fashion^ 


200 

In  man's  deceit  the  Wolf  behold, 
II-    seeks  his  living  from  the  fold, 
He  sometimes  feigns  to  be  a  friend, 
But  that's  his  plan  to  tear  and  rend, 
He  is  ferocious,  and  will  try, 
To  kill  and  day,  but  always  sly, 
Kf  sneaks  along  the  midnight  path, 
And  meditates  his  meal  of  death. 
'Tis  by  deceit,  the  ground  is  gain'd, 
Wh^re  he  is  ^or^,d  and  you  arepairi'd, 
He  slays  your  peace— fills  you  with  sorrow. 
And  like  the  vVolfhe's  gone  to-morrow. 

The  Horse  runs  fearless  in  the  fields, 
•Mid  cannons,  guns  and  swords  and  shields, 
And  man,  the  hero,  like  him  goes, 
Und  ;unted  in  the  midst  of  foes, 
His  courage  leads  him  in  the  way, 
Where  hosts  around  in  an^er  rlaj* ; 
He  lovos  the  conquest — -pushes  on, 
And  gains  the  goal,  or  dies  forlorn; 
He  feels  no  rein,  but  onward  dashes, 
And,  like  the  horse  cares  not  for  lashes'. 

The  Ass  is  stupid — stubborn  too, 
He  wili  not  drive,  nor  follow  you, 
He  takes  his  own  directed  way, 
IS  ox  cares  if  he  should  go  astray. 


201 

^o  man  is  stupid — often  found, 
To  tread  forbidden,  desert  ground; 
His  real  good,  he  slow  discerns, 
And  from  his  danger  seldom  turns; 
His  stubborn  will  forbids  to  bend, 
Nor  can  be  turnM  by  foe  or  friend, 
His  own  direction  he  will  take, 
That,  right  or  wrong,  he'll  not  forsake, 
Tho'  he  be  scourged  and  badly  b.ruis'd, 
Reproved  aloud,  and  long  abus'd! 
His  life's  a  load  he  cannot  bear  it, 
nd,  like  the  ass  his  brays  declare  it 

The  Ox  that  labors  in  the  fields, 
And  patient  to  his  m  aster  yields; 
He  draws  his  burden  all  the  day — 
Consents  to  give  his  toil  away. 
Poor  man,  like  him  the  yoke  must  bear, 
And  in  his  labor  take  a  share ; 
Innur'd  to  toil — short  rest  he  know?, 
He  bears  a  load  of  ills  and  woes, 
Strong  fate  has  bound  him  to  his  task, 
And  why?  He  need  not  murm'ring  ask, 
He  toils  in  patience— hopes  for  gain, 
His  cares  increase — his  hopes  are  vain, 
What  he  acquires  some  others  get, 
*nd  wanton  on  his  labor"  d  sweat, 
I  2 


•  t  he  finds  bis  fruits  are  squam 
And  like  the  Ox— northisheponder'd. 

The  crafty  Fox  strays  far  away. 
And  secl:3  by  wiles  his  nightly  prey, 
lie  sucks  the  blood  of  harmless  nam<\ 
And  gallops  off  in  guilt  and  shame  : 
And  when  pursued  he's  bard  to  find, 
Among  the  woods  so  long  inclined. 
His  cunning  art  can  soon  prepare, 
A  scheme  to  'scape  pursuers  there. 
So  man  on  gain  and  fortune  bent. 
Leaves  native  soil  and  home's  con' 
He  forms  his  plans  with  artful  guise, 
To  snatch  the  prey  with  sad  surpr 
He  takes  by  stealth  the  peasant's  t 
And  sates  his  thirst  on  night!}1"  spoil— 
Secretes  his  crime  from  public  view, 
And  seeks  the  place  where  none  pursue. 
He  veils  himself  in  dark  designs, 
Unknown  to  most  discerning  mind- 
He's  not  mistrusted  in  his  deeds, 
Till  by  his  craft  his  booty  bleeds ; 
He  then  withdraws  to  distant  pla< 
And  saves  himself  in  swiftest  r 

Behold  the  nature  of  the  Bear. 
In  saddest  mode  he  travels  where 


203 

Dark  solitude  and  silence  brood, 

Along  the  desert  mountain  wood ; 

He  growls  along  the  gloomy  night, 

His  aspect  surly  in  the  light, 

He  is  no  friend  to  creatures  round. 

But  always  sad  and  surly  found.. 

So  man  in  melancholy  strays, 

A  murky  solitary  maze ; 

He  finds  the  earth  a  barren  wild, 

Himself  akin  tomorrow's  child ; 

His  heart  grows  hard  as  days  roll  on, 

His  aspect  sad,  his  soul  forlorn, 

He  groans  his  sorrows  to  the  day, 

And  in  his  desert  loves  to  stray ; 

He  thinks  he  has  no  friend  below, 

And  lurks  desponding  to  and  fro ; 

He  is  a  friend  to  none  around  him, 

Much  like  a  bear  I've  always  found  him. 

The  Monkey  ranges  o'er  the  woods. 
And  on  his  neighbors  oft  intrudes; 
He's  'most  a  fool,  but  full  of  play, 
He's  apt  to  steal  and  run  away, 
He's  quite  diverting  in  his  turn, 
He'll  imitate,  pretend  to  learn, 
He's  full  of  motions,  full  of  fun, 
He  laughs  at  mischief  he  has  done.; 


204 

Me  i3  a  pest  where  e'er  he  be, 
He  is  despised — you  laugh  to  see. 
And  what  is  man,  but  monkey  grown  % 
He  lives  on  labors  not  his  own ; 
He  cheats,  defrauds  and  pilfers  too, 
And  if  he  can,  takes  more  thanfcs  due; 
He  plagues  his  neighbors  where  he  goe?, 
And  then  complains  they  are  his  foes; 
He  makes  pretensions  to  be  wise, 
He  woulr*  sometimes  in  science  rise;. 
Bur  soon  alas!  you  plainly  see, 
He  imitates  what  others  be ; 
His  words  and  manners,  and  his  mien. 
Are  borrowed — this  is  plainly  ?een ; 
He  thinks  he's  wise,  he  thinks  he's  great. 
But  empty  sculls  you  can  but  hate, 
If  you  could  see  how  nature  made  him, 
Ah !  monkey  like,  she  did  degrade  him. 

The  Sheep,  a  harmless  creature  made,- 
Jn  innocence  has  trod  the  glade ; 
His  nature  mild,  be  thinks  no  ill", 
To  strokes  of  death  resigns  his  will; 
He  gives  his  fleece  without  complaint, 
Nor  murmurs  when  he  s  almost  faint ; 
He  seems  defenceless,  often  slain, 
By  bloody  prowlers  of  the  plain-; 


206 

Forgetting  home,  he's  apt  to  stray. 
And  in  the  mountains  loose  his  way. 
So  man,  that's  born  of  heavenly  mind, 
To  peace  and  virtue  stong  inclined, 
The  ills  of  life  in  patience  bears, 
Norvex'd  beneath  a  crowd  of  cares; 
The  gross  insults  and  every  wrong, 
Receiv'd  from  the  surrounding  throng, 
He  suffers  long,  nor  once  complains, 
In  all  his  sorrows*  grief  and  pains ; 
He  thinks  no  ill — treats  all  as  friend?;, 
Nor  his  own  life  by  war  defends; 
Defenceless  in  himself  he  goes, 
Sometimes  abus'd  by  cruel  foes. 
He  strays  sometimes  too  far  from  home, 
Too  long  in  wilds  he  learns  to  roam, 
Perhaps  by  wrolves  is  torn  asunder, 
Much  like  the  sheep  that  loves  to  wander. 

The  Dog  remarked  for  sense  and  thought, 
By  instinct,  and  by  practice  taught, 
Will  long  defend  his  owner's  cause, 
Urg'd  on  by  nature's  ri^id  laws ; 
He'll  trace  his  game  though  out  of  sight, 
Nor  loose  the  track  by  day  or   night. 
His  u?^  is  known — his  friendship  greai, 
But  dreadful  to  incur  his  hate, 


20G 

So  man  is  taught,  on  nature's  base. 

To  run  his  game,  a  tedious  race, 

His  object  always  out  of  sight, 

He  still  pursues  with  arduous  riight ; 

And  if  he  once  should  seize  the  prize, 

He  hunts  again,  away  he  tries; 

His  life's  a  race  that  often  leads 

O'er  mountains,  hills  and  miry  meads  i 

lie  may  be  useful  to  the  throng, 

Not  to  himself  his  spoils  belong, 

He'll  bite  and  snarl  in  time  of  danger, 

And  scarce  befriend  you  wThen  a  stranger. 

The  Serpent  crawls  and  licks  the  du st, 
By  heaven's  sentence  true  and  just; 
He  takes  his  food  by  -thousand  wiles. 
And  thoughtless  innocence  beguiles ; 
He  lies  secreted  in  the  grass, 
And  slily  watches  all  that  pass, 
And  waits  a  chance,  his  poison  slingc, 
And  each  unwary  victim  stings ; 
He's  curs'd  and  hated  where  he's  known, 
On  him  there's  no  compassion  shown ! 
So  man  iscurs'd  and  low  debas'd, 
And  by  his  foes  is  often  chas'd  ; 
He  hunts  the  desert  for  his  bread, 
And  throws  all  nature  into  dread :. 


Not  easy  seen  by  n 

p  hidden,  there  he  waits  his  prey, 
Flings  rleath  and  terror  ocer  the  way ; 
His  tongue  is  poison,  and  his  breath 
Gives  hydrophobia — dreadful  death! 
He  ;lures  the  harmless,  bites  them  then, 
And  hides  in  grass,  or  murky  den  ; 
Kis  name  is  hated — none  pretend, 
To  love,  respect,  or  call  him  friend  ; 
His  poison's  seen  in  every  feature, 
He's  like  the  snake,  a  dreadful  creature, 

The  Lizzard  of  contempt'ous  name, 
That  lowly  crawls  the  dust  in  shame, 

nats  fojr  food,  or  lives  on  air, 
And  starves  almost  on  empty  fare. 

nan  is  seen  in  low  disgrace. 
And  meanly  crawls  his  shameful  race ; 
.olden  gems  that  round  him  play, 
lie  tries  to  catch  along  the  way ; 
Hut  fast  they  fly,  nor  can  he  find, 
Enough  to  satisfy  his  mind  ; 

V'vclsin  the  dust  and  lives, 
On  empty  things  and  seldom  thrives; 
I'e  pants  for  something — tries  to  get  it, 
But,  like  the  Lizzard  cannot  t 


208 

The  common  Toad  that  jumps  along, 
And  fills  the  ear  with  sadden'd  song, 
Would  swiftly  bound  his  wantonM  road. 
But  slow  he  moves — himself  a  load ; 
He  swells  with  wind  his  little  ^ize, 
And  puffs  mean  greatness  to  your  eyes ; 
But  watch  him  when  his  wind  is  gone, 
He  sinks  beneath  indignant  scorn! 
So  man  pretends  to  rise  and  run, 
His  course  is  full  of  noise  and  fun; 
He  tries  too  fast  to  leap  and  climh, 
What  he  pursues  is  not  in  time. 
Himself  a  load  he  cannot  bear, 
He  faints,  and  falls  beneath  it  there ; 
With  hauty  pride  his  bosom  swells, 
His  windy  feats  he  often  tells, 
He  looks  quite  big — not  well  refin'd— 
A  pompous  show — but  little  mind. 
He  puffs  with  greatness,  not  his  own, 
With  empty  wind  he's  stuff'd  and  blown ; 
For,  in  himself  he's  lank  and  leaner, 
Than  any  Toad  he's  poor  and  meaner. 

The  swarms  of  Gnats  that  move  along; 
In  wide,  promiscuous,  giddy  throng, 
Sport  on  awhile  in  vernal  day, 
But  soon  from  earth  are  swept  away ! 


209 

^u  man  in  long  and  endless  train, 
Is  seen  to  dance  the  flow^y    lam. 
He  mixes  in  the  countless  host, 
On  frolic  wing  tumultuous  tost; 
He  airy  sports  on  fortune's  boon, 
And  spends  in  play  his  vernal  noon ; 
But  sable  winds  drive  him  from  sijht 
And  close  his  dance  in  endless  bight ; 
His  hUi  is  short — uncertain  vapor, 
Like  floating  gnats  in  evening  caper. 

The  Hornet  builds  ingenious  ne-t, 
And  there  presumes  to  make  his  rest — 
A  bold,  a  wild,  a  restless  thing, 
And  fights  with  sharp  envenom'd  sting. 

in  with  -kill,  almost  divine, 
Constructs  the  palace — makes  it  shine, 
He  calls  it  home — a  resting  place, 
But  often  wings  a  desert  ch  a 
He  roves  a  stranger  throcthe  wood, 
fn  search  cf  foreign,  empty  good ! 
His  nature  wild — not  easy  tam'd, 
And  fiercely  bold — not  often  shamed ; 
Disturb  him  not,  for  if  you  do, 
//e;ll  fight,  and  deeply  sting  you  too ; 
He  loves  to  pierce  us.  you  would  scorn  it^ 
But  marvel  not  for  he  s  a  hornet. 


210 

The  Buzzard  cleaves  his  trackless  way. 
And  scents  afar  his  putrid  prey ; 
Jle  leaves  the  richer  good  behind, 
And  lives  on  carrion,  if  he  find. 
So  man  in  flight,  on  mischief  bent, 
Pursues  his  course  with  eager  scent, 
Talks  none  of  good,  but  scandal  brays, 
And  stir*  corruption  as  he  strays; 
He  never  tastes  the  meat  that's  sweeter.. 
But  Buzzard- like  is  carrion  eater  \ 

v     The  Eagle,  lofty  bird  of  flight, 
^Soars  oft  away  from  vulgar  sight, 
^He  buids  his  nest  on  mountains  high3 
Where  seldom  seen  by  human  eye, 
He  owns  the  forest's  wide  domains, 
And  there  majestic  lives  and  reigns. 
So  man,  in  science  rises  high, 
He  climbs,  and  soars,  and  wings  the  sky  ; 
He  measures  globes  and  blazing  suns, 
And  thro'  etherial  regions  runs ; 
He  knows  the  north,  the  burning  zone, 
O'er  every  clime  his  wings  have  flown ; 
By  daring  thought,  he  leaves  below, 
(His  meaner  fellows  plung'd  in  woe) 
Sublimely  soars,  and  ardent,  gains 
The  heav'ns  high  hills  and  her  broad  plain? 


'Tis  there  he  builds  his  down 3 
In  that  high  region  takes  his  rest* 

-lis  there  he  reigns  forever  king, 
Ami  undisturbed  by  meaner  wing; 
lie  loves  the  region,  lives  adoring, 
And,  like  the  Eagle  high  is  soaring. 

The  Geese  are  noted  for  their  noise, 
They  gabble  loud,  unmeaning  jo ys, 

They  dabble. in  the  muddy  ground, 

And  mean  and  filthy  they  are  found  ; 

They  don't  aspire,  nor  leave  the  place, 

But  live  in  folly  and  disgrace. 

So  man,  a  noisy  being  is, 

"When  drunken,  sordid  joys,  are  hisj 

He  gabbles  nonsense  and  abuse, 

He  talks  no  good — of  little  use, 

He  fills  the  ear  with  jargon  sound, 

And  bills  his  filth  and  mischief  round. 

He  deals  in  slander — dirty  stuff, 

And  drains  the  puddle — not  enough  ; 

His  walks  are  low,  and  seldom  rise, 

He's  base  and  filthy  and  unwise; 

He  grovels  low  and  squalls  his  slander, 

And  paddles  much  like  goose  and  gander. 

The  Swine  that  lives  on  husks  and  corn* 
J^ooks  sullen,  sad,  and  grunts  forlorn, 


2<2 

With  his  long  snout  he  roots  the  soil, 
An. i  fattens  on  the  poor  man's  toil; 
Ile^s  always  greedy  fend  untaught, 
In  mud  he  wallows— low  m  thought  1 
So  man  on  meanest  treasures  feeds, 
And  runs  where  love-  of  money  leads; 
His  soul  grows  sordi'i  and'.debased, 
He  grunts  for  more  arid  looks  uis^rac'd; 
He  snouts  the  poor  man  out  of  door, 
Takes  all  he  can  and  soeks  fcr  more. 
.His  manners  rou^h  and  quite  uncouth, 
And  cares  for  none  but  self  in  truth  ; 
When  fat  and  full,  he'll  tu?k  you  deep, 
/Ze'll  make  you  fiy  or  make  you  weep. 
JFTegrunts  and  eats,  and  greedy  swallows, 
i/e's  like  the  hog,  in  mud,  that  wallows. 

The  crawling  Worm  that  moves  along, 
D^s;  is'd  and  trodden  by  the  throng"; 
He  cannot  turn,  nor  fly  tin   way, 

But  often  crushM  an  v&?\  prey ; 

He's  soft  and  frai] — eoionos'd  of  shame, 

Dirt  and  corn  lion  i-  his  name. 

So  man  of  dust,  in  -,ust  remains, 

Pursu 'd  for  prey  and  waathes  in  nains, 

His  thoughts  so  sordid,  seldom  rise, 

Death  stares  him  where  he  crawls  or  lies ; 


213 

Danger?  race  him  round  the  earth, 

rush  him  in  the  birth. 
He  cannot  run,  nor  fly  his  doom, 
But  soon  liiust  find  the  lonesome  tomb ; 
He  loves  the  dust,  the  dust  he's  sweeping 
An<  .  uiie  the  worm,  corruption  creeping. 

ife' s like  a  Bug,  he'll  pinch  and  bite, 
And  like  a  Cat  he'll  scratch  and  fight : 
Jfe's  like  a  crooked  tender  Snail, 
That's  easy  crush'd  along  his  trail. 

He's  like  the  Mole  that  digs  his  way, 
From  public  view,  from  open  day  ; 
He's  Yellow  jacket,  quick  and  fierce, 
And  with  a  sting  will  deeply  pierce. 
And  like  a  wasp  along  the  fences, 
Will  deeply  goad  you- to  the  senses. 

The  Mushroom  grows  &  spreads  out  soon. 
Turns  black,  and  dies  before  'tis  noon ; 
Some  men  are  so,  they'll  quickly  shoot, 
They  rise  and  flourish  without  root; 
But  soon  al  is!  such  fade  away, 
And  leave  black  marks  of  their  decay. 

Man's  like  an  Eel — a  slip'ry  fish, 
iie'll  twist  and  flounce,  elude  your  wish  : 
You  scarce  can  hold  him — often  find 
uim  gone,  and  left  the  scurf  behind 


214 

lie's  like  the  monstrous  Crockadile, 
Pretends  to  weep  his  conquer'd  spoil; 
He's  like  a  bat  that's  blind  in  da}-- 
And  in  sad  darkness  loves  to  stray. 
I  think  he's  like  the  possom  too, 
He  grins  hi-  anguish  when  untrue ; 
Or  likp  the  cricket,  should  I  say  1 
That  idly  chirps  his  hours  away ! 
He's  like  the  owl  that  hates  the  light^ 
But  pours  his  sorrows  on  the  night. 
The  lust  and  rage  of  every  beast, 
Down  from  the  greatest  to  the  leat ; 
The  fiercest  passions  of  their  race, 
And  fearful  natures  that  disgrace, 
Are  plainly  seen  in  human  life, 
The  scene  of  ev'ry  pain  and  strife ! 

O  man!  why  hast  thou  fallen  so? 
Created,  first  the  lord  below — 
Intelligent,  and  harmless,  mild, 
Heav'n  s  holy  image  in  the  child ; 
Exalted  once,  without  a  foe, 
Without  the  plague  of  vice  and  woe. 
But  O !  thy  state,  how  badly  changed  I 
Thy  glory  tied,  thy  mind  derang'd ! 
"More  savage  now  than  beasts  of  blood. 
Than  monger;  of  the  raging  fl 


£15 

.cited  than  the  snakes  in  grass, 
Than  all  the  reptile  tribes  that  pass; 
More  cross  d,  distress  d  and  full  of  pain, 
Than  all  that  moves  on  earth  s  broad  plain*. 
Reform  thy  manners,  Ml  remind  thee, 
Of  better  nature  let  me  find  thee. 


AN  ADDRESS  TO  THE  AMERICAN  FAIR. 

M  Y  muse  advent'rous,  shall  attempt  to  sing, 
The  pleasing  prospect  of  the  op'ning  spring, 
Shall  dare  to  tempt  Alcinda's  feet  abroad, 
To  tread  wide  nature  in  her  flow'ry  road. 
"When  cooling  zephyrs  fan  the  flow'ry  way, 
And  twittering  birds  their  vernal  gambols  play, 
When  meads  are  green  and  fields  afre  decked 

Mi  flow'rs, 
Then  spend  the   transports   of   some  cooling 

hours. 

Regale  your  eyes  o'er  all  the  landscape  wide, 
And  count  the  brooks  that  round  her  inargia 

glide- 
Go  view  the  rills  that  gently  play  along, 
What  rising  glories  to  the  grass  belong ! 

Ascend  the  mound  «£:  seek  the  cooling  shade, 
Vnd  view  the  wenders  which  your  Go.l 
rnade ; 


216 

lTis  henec  you  see  the  mountain's  lofty  brow. 
And  hills  far  distant  interspers'd  below ; 
Disorder  seems  to  spread  itself  around, 
But  skill  divine  in  matchless  beauty's  found. 
The  rising  poplar  in  the  expanding  green, 
And  humble  glories  deck  the  opening  scene. 
Behind  yon  vista  see  the  village  there, 
Where  swains  are  toiling  for  their  worldly  care 
See  rural  mansions  rising  round  the  grove, 
And  harmless  herds  in  wanton  pleasure  rove ; 
The  drifted  smoke  descends  along  the  vale, 
And  seems  to  mourn  where  absent  lovers  fail! 
Thine  eye  beholds  the  distant  river  roll, 
Thou  hear'st  her  murm'ring  o;er  the   rocky 

shoal — 
Her  winding  channel  bends  along  the  land, 
And  opens  where  the  smoky  hamlets  stand ; 
Perhaps  she  pours  a  copious  tide  away, 
Amid  the  vale,  she  makes  a  long  delay, 
And  forms  those  banks  where  wand;ring  lover? 

To  vent  their  sorrow,  and  to  weep  their  woe. 

The  distant  bells  sound  faintly  to  the  ear, 
Or  you  the  lowing  herds  at  distance  hear ; 
The  milk-maid  wanders  o'er  the  passing  way. 
Hies  home  her  cattle  in  their  roving  play. 


217 

rustics  now  lay  down  their  tools  awhile, 
An«l  homewar  1  walk  to  cease   from  dusty  toil, 
They  whittle  forth  their  note?  of  comic  glee, 
And  seek  the  cot  the  loving  wife  to  see. 
The  babes  and  wife  with  <wcet  extatic  charms, 
JVow  meet  the  rustic  with  extended  arms! 
Far  o'er  the  hill  is  tun'd  a  mournful  lay, 
Where  lovers  with  the  flute  or  spinnet  play. 

O !  hear  the  birds  sweet  singing  to  their  loves, 
Thro'  all  the  green,  thro1  all  the  vocal  groves; 
Their  varied  notes,  their  trilling  anthems  run, 
And  mournful  most  when  low  the  ev'ning  sun; 
Some  sing  aloud,  ambitious  to  be  known, 
\nd  others  plaintive  scarcely  not  their  own — 
some  strike  a  note  to  chant  a  partner's  theme, 
some  mourn  in  absence  and  to  weep  they  seem, 
n  lonesome  woods  amid  the  growing  glooms, 
\  songstress  sweet,  her  sweetest  notes  assumes, 
^jiiloma  sings  and  lulls  them  all  to  sleep, 
Vnd  while  they  rest  she  can't  forbear  to  weep  J 
)he  chants  the  irrove,  delightful  is  her  lay, 
me  soothes  the  lover  in  his  midnight  way. 
Thou  hear'st'the  dove,  a  sweet  and  mournful 

song, 

I  plaintive  note,  a  note  of  something  wrong; 
he  lay  is  solemn,  and  the  note  sincere, 
ler  mate  seems  absent  and  can  never  hear— 

K 


*  1  ~» 


-Sne  coos,  she  calls,  expostulates  the  groves. 

To  urive  to  her  the  absent  one  she  loves ; 

At  eve's  approach,  she  haunts  the   lonesome 

tree, 
To  call  her  love,  and  hopes  her  love  to  see — 
Then  bends  her  head  and  covers  o'er  he 
She  sleeps  in  silence  and  no  more  can  sing. 

Look  down  the  vale,  the  rising lilly  see, 
There  beauty  flows  in  full  v  iriety ; 
Her  modest  stature  decorates  the  green, 
?*o  spot,  nor  wrinkle  in  her  bloom  is  seen. 
A  modest  torm  behold !  without  pretence , 
Like  virtuous  maids  in  harmless  innocence. 

Behold  the  flow'rs  expand  in  living  bloomr 
Display  their  glory  and  their  grace  assume  ; 
Their  varied  hues  in  rising  beauties  glow, 
In  fields  extensive,  and  in  vales  below. 
3ome  rise  in  blue,  &  some  are  ting'd  with  gold. 
And  numerous  shades  in  modest  pride  unfold. 
If o mimic  art,  nor  toilsome  hand  has  plac'd, 
Their  beauteous  order — all  by  nature  grae'd  ; 
Their  careless  form  displays  more  beauty  there, 
Than  prudes  could  show  with  all  their  lime 

care. 
Behold  them  tremble  as  the  zephyrs  move, 
Inhale  their  fragrance, and  their  odours  prove; 


219 

The  sweet  perfume  that  passes  thro'  the  aii\ 
Must  give  delight,  and  quell  the  rising  care. 
Now  see  the  blushes  in  the  orchards  spread, 
Where  lovely  nymphs  in  vernal  seasons  tread 
Their  mingling  graces  and  their  beauties  rise, 
To  charm  the  soul  and  captivate  the  eyes; 
The  fanning  breezes  lull  the  swain  asleep, 
And  softly  o'er  thy  swelling  bosom  creep-, 
They  drive  the  perspirating  heat  away, 
And  chant  thy  voice  to  join  creation's  lay. 

Contemplate  now  on  what  thy  walk  mny. 

teach, 
Let  vocal  woods  thy  tender  passions  reach ; 
Let  brooks  and  rills  and  mountains,  meads  and 

flowers, 

Now  preach  thee  wisdom  and  reiine  thy  pow'rs. 
Remember  long  what  various  notes  wore  sung., 
What  dill-rent  meanings  in  their  anthems  rung ; 
The  merry  warblers  sang  their  lays  along, 
And  tun'd  their  pleasure  to  the  busy  throng,. 
But  evening  shades  c;er  all  the  valleys  spread^ 
And  struck  their  music  &  their  pleasures  dead. 
So  wanton  youth  who  sport  on  fortune's  boon* 
!n  pride  and  pleasure  spend  their  vernal  noon; 
Their  theme  delightful,  seems  to  charm  thcear^ 
While  care  is  fled  and  all  distressful  fear ; 
IjBtfth  strovs  their  empty  mirth, 


J'JO 

Their  any  grow?  dim.  their  joys  of  little  worm  5 
Their  sun  declines  and  brings  sad  darkness  on, 
Long   silence  reigns  and  all  their   pleasured 
gone ! 

The  fainting  sun  reclines  beyond  thy  sight) 
E'er  shadows  roll  their  darkness  into  night, 
Thy  walk  resume  and  find  the  homeward  way, 
And  ne*er  forget  creation's  vocal  lay. 
As  ye  advance,  let  converse  cheer  the  mind, 
"With  morals  wise  and  sentiments  refiu'd  ; 
WaJk  slowly  on  and  keep  the  house  in  view, 
And  talk  of  wonders  which  are  ever  new  ; 
Ensnare  thy  courtier  with  thy  -kill  of  thought, 
Let  heaven  and  earth  be  in  thy  subject  bro't. 
Rehearse  the  beauties  that  on  earth  extend, 
Their  place,  their  use,    tkeir  various  orders 

blend ;     ' 
Talk  oceans,  river?,  mountains,  kingdoms  o4er, 
Forests,  fields,  and  all  the  distant  shore; 
Let  nations,  empires  and  their  arts  be  told. 
Their  pride  and  grandeur,  Sz  their  feasts  of  old. 
On  nature  dwell,  and  in  thy  accents  kmpw, 
>Vhat  grades  subservient  crawl  the  earth  below  ; 
The  Hon  yonder  roars  his  anger  round, 
While  distant  herds  stand  trembling  at  the 

sound  ; 
There  burden'd  camels  rovo  the  (V?ert  sand,    • 


2 1 1 

aid  here,the  horse  submissive  ploughs  the  land, 
'he  scaly  nations  swimming  in  the  sea, 
'he  plumy  birds,  and  the  industrious  bee, 
nd  insects  too,  that  meanly  crawl  the  earth, 
*»f  honor  less,  and  less  of  real  worth, 
hould  serve  for  thee  in  conversation's  strain, 
.nd  thus  is  man  a  complicated  train. 
?er  daylight's  gone  return,  and  near  the  door 
'onverse  more  freely  than  thou  didst  before — • 
[ear  to  the  house  when  summer's  ^rassis  .  reen, 
V'hi m  shining  stars  and  brighter  moon  are  seen 
here  sit  a'while  thy  social  moments  spend, 
aid  round  the   skies  thy  copious  thoughts  ex- 
tend. 
Vhile   sprinkling  dews    revive  the   drooping 
ruse, 

nd  murm'ring  zephyrs  wake  their  short  re- 
Bpse, 

nd  waft  nerfame  along  the  passing  air, 
,ct  pleasure  pass  in  conversation  there, 
'hy  rosy'cheeks  with  modest  grace  shall  shine, 

s  virtue,  knowledge,  &  good  sense  are  thine; 
Vrith  mind  inforrn'd  let  rapt'rous  visions  fly, 

nd  trace  the  -wonders  of  the  boundless  sky. 

Com  oare  those  orbs  that  rove  expansive  space 
yo  youthful  lover- in  their  wonted  rice; 
'ome  dow  with  %ht,  and  shine  effulgence  near, 


i 

But  soon  withdraw — their  glories  disapp 
They  soon  perform  their  rapid  (light  in  air? 
And  leave  the  horizon  in  dark  dispair ; 
The  vulgar  eye,  once  dazzled  with  the  train, 
Now  meets  the  dark  and  looks  for  light  in  vain  ! 
Some  far  remote  with  less  resplendence  glow. 
But  constant  honors  from  their  orhits  flow  ;. 
As  they  advance  their  far  ether'al  race, 
They  shine  in  glory  and  increase  in  grace  ; 
Their  midnight  lustre  swells  upon  the  sight, 
And  cheersthe  horrors  of  the  sable  night: 
They  move  in   grandeur  o'eF  'our   beggar** 

world, 
While  blazing,  comets  are  in  ether  hurPd. 

So  men,  and  manners,  differ  in  degree, 
They  show  their  parts, butin  their  parts,we  see? 
Some  shine  in  grace  &  grandeur  not  their  own, 
For  grace  &  grandeur  they  have  never  known; 
Their  hows  are  borrow'd,  Si  their  language  too, 
They  glow  and  dazzle  only  while  they're  new. 

Tho'  gaudy  plumes  bedeck  the  coxcomb  race, 
A  short  acquaintance' brings  them  to  disgraced 
The  men  of  virtue  shine  in  virtue's  dress, 
They  glory  not  in  dross — in  tinsel  less; 
Their  minds  a  store  house,  only  known  to  i'ewy 
Tfef  ir  worth  intrinsic^  and  their  friendship  true  -h 


- 

Behold  them  in  their  native  lustre  bright, 
Reflect  resplendence  and  increase  in  light , 
Their  hearts  are  warm,  their  faithful  hearts  de,-. 
clare, 

Their  pure  intentions  to  solace  the  fair. 
Such  men  can  bless  the  charmer  of  their  heart?. 
Their  fix'd  affection  never  once  departs; 
Their  tlame  of  virtue  ever  shall  remain, 
While  fops  and  beaux  may  show  their  parts  in 
vain. 

A  man  of  manners,  and  a  man  of  worth, 
Has  estimated  all  the  things  of  earth  ; 
With  balance  justly,  he  has  weighed  them  all, 
And  down,  like  trifles,  he  has  seen  them  fall ; 
He's  not  content  with  mere  external  things, 
From  deeper  mines  he  knows  true   pleasure 

springs. 
A  mind  serene,  an  upright  soul  he  knows, 
Can  only  triumph  over  human  woes; 
His  soul  pacific,  like  a  tranquil  bay, 
He  liv'd  last  year  as  he  would  live  to-day ; 
The  path  of  riot,  he  has  seldom  trod, 
He  learns  his  duty  in  the  book  of  God — 
The  happy  nymph  who  weds  a  man  like  this, 
Shall  find  her  days  replete  with  purest  bliss. 
A  theme  untouched  must  yet  belong  to  you, 
!h  strains  sublime,  I  would  the  theme  pursue-. 


224 

Ne'er  let  those  hearts  that  round  thy  heart  en- 
twine, 
Presume  you  never  learn'd  a  thought  divine; 
Extend  your  thourhts  let  holy  rap  run, 
And  catch  new  fire  ironi  the  eternal  throne. 

Now  trace  all  nature  to  the  great  first  cause. 
And  tell  the  use  of  his  immortal  laws — 
His  potent  word  produced  the  spacious  seas, 
His  power  controls  ill  nature  as  he  please  ; 
His  wondlrous  skill  brought  forth  the  race  of 

man, 
And  bound  in  golden  chains  the  social  plan : 
The  bond  of  union  both  thp  sexes  join'd, 
And  Hymen's  mystic  ties  link'd  mind  to  mind! 
God  feed*,  supports,  preserves  the  human  racc3 
And  condescends  to  visit  them  with  erace; 
With  lib  ral  hand  compassionates  the  poor, 
A  Saviour  comes,  the  sinner  to  restore ; 
His  boundless  love  pervades  his  yast  domain, 
Would  woo  the  soul  when  joys  eternal  reign^ 
We  read  in  words,  by  inspiration  giv'n, 
Our  never  fading  crown  laid  up  in  heav'n. 

Extend  your  thoughts,  &  let  your  thoughts 
arise, 
And  meditate  the  bounty  of  the  skies; 
Behold  yourself  a  creature  of  a  day, 
Perhaps  an  angel  now  dcbas'd  in  clay; 


And  O  !  that  clay  so  wonderfully  "wrought, 
By  God  created  and  by  Jesus  bought! 
That  handsome  form,  that  animateil  frame. 
The  pow'r  .md  wisdom  of  your  God  proclaim; 
Remains  dependent  on  hi^  bounteous  hand, 
For  all  the  Wessings  which  you  now  command. 
His  jreat  compassion  and  preserving  care, 
Should  woo  thy  soul  to  penitential  pray  1*. 

Think  not 'a  prayer,  an  exercise  too  low, 
Nor  blush  when  silent  tears  repentant  flow  ; 
The  ground  of  prayer  is  sacred  to  the  good, 
There  Ab'ram,  Moses  and  the  Prophets  stood,    . 
Immortal  women  on  that  holy  ground, 
ObtainM  a  blessing  an^1  a  Saviour  found  ; 
That  is  the  place  where  mortal  worms  receive  • 
The  stamp  of  fame,  with  'their  Creator  live ; 
The  soul  exalts,  becomes  unfeigned,  upright, 
Prepares  to  tread  the  golden  walks  of  light, 

Alcinda,  try  to  make  your  tomb  the  skies, 
And  write  your  Epitaph  that  never  dies! 
Make  one -your  friend  who  never  will  betray, 
Nor  leave  you  sad  in  the  distressing  day — 
Give  him  your  hand,  and  not  your  heart  with- 
hold, 
Who  decks  the  bridal  day  with  crowns  of  gold*. 
Traverse  with  him,  wherever  lie  may  gor 
K2 


lie*]]  dress  you  o'er  in  garments  white  &;  clean 
Nor  spot,  nor  wrinkle,  nor  a  fault  be  seen  ; 
Ja  pious  virtues,  and  ir  _-;lcc. 

Thy  life  shall  shine  amidst  thy  kindred  race ; 
No  pious  soul  but  would  rejoice  to  see, 
Those  blissful  gracescentre  all  in  thee. 
IVo  loss  of  honor — these  thy  life  sustain, 
For  now  thy  glory  and  thy  wealth  rem;! 
jSo  disappointments  can  distress  thy  mint:. 
For  grace  commands  thee  here  to  be  resigned 

The  weaker  vessel  now  shall  pass  along, 
Triumphant  sail  amid  a  pirate  throng; 
."No  boist'rous  surge  shall  plunge  herin  the  deep, 
]Sgt  dangerous   quicksands  give  her  cause  to 

weep — 
He?  sails  expanded,  and  her  port  in  view — 
Tier  acclamations,  and  her  hopes  renew  ; 

■cighs  her  anchor,  and  her  perils  c: 
She  gains  the  shores  of  everlasting  peace ; 

re  troubles  end  in  lands  of  sweet  repose, 
BehoMswith  pleasure  how she.'scap'cl  her  -• 

cs  her  treasure,  as  she  gains  the  prize, 
And 'sings  her  blissful  fortune  in  the  skies. 

Is  this  Aleinda  ?  Will  she  hear  mj. 
.r  the  strains  of  IV 


221 

"  The  gifts  of  nature  and  of  grace  combine, 
To  make  her  virtue  and  her  beauty  shine ; 
While  thus  adorn'd,  I'll  sing  her  worthy  name.} 
And  hope  high  heaven. will  record  her  fame. 


A  VISION, 

Representing  a  view  of  the  different  parties  of 
religion,  and  their  conduct  towards  each  other. 

ASCENDING  on  a  mountain  high, 

I  saw  the  distant  scene, 
Extending  onward  to  the  sky, 

Nor  clouds  to  intervene. 

Around" the  place  I  wond'ring  stood, 

Arose  a  cooling  spring, 
Which  ran  along  the  shady  wood, 

Where  birds  wild  anthems  sing., 

I  tasted  of  the  waters  there, 

And  to  my  great  surprise, 
An  instant  banish'd  all  my  care, 

And  quick'nd  both  my  eyes! 

I  felt  my  inward  strength  increase, 
And  heal'd  was  ev'ry  wound  ; 

1  felt  a  cure  from  all  disease, 
>Ty  sense  was  strong  and  souncL 


220 

1  then  beheld  far  off  before^ 

A  field  extensive  there ; 
I  saw  a  thousand  sheep,  or  more^ 

Along  the  brooks  repair. 

1  went  toward  that  pleasant  plai% 

And  on  the  margin  stood ; 
I  yet  had  felt  no  inward  pain, 

Nor  thought  of  aught  but  good, 

But  here  a  thousand  thoughts  arose. 

To  make  new  pains  arise ; 
I  saw  the  cause  of  many  woes— 

The  cause  of  weeping  eyc2. 

I  saw  the  cots  and  houses  stand, 

Thick  crowded  on  the  place,  • 
There  men  abode,  and  gave  command, 

To  all  the  sheep-fold  race. 
A  wall  enclosed  this  pleasant  ground  y 

But  broken  look  d  the  wall — 
-Twas  first  intended  as  the  bound, 

Of  sheep  and  shepherds  alL 
I  look'd  within,  and  did  behold, 

An  unsuspected  scene : 
Innumerous  fences  new  and  old, 

Cross  to  and  fro  the  green. 
In  ev'ry  field  I  saw  some  sheep, 

And  there  a  shepherd  too ; 


I 

...wn  he'd  watch  and  try  to  kt 

And  only  this  h.eM  do. 
But  most  of  all  what  pained  ray  heart. 

I  heard  the  lambkins  mourn, 
In  ev'ry  fold  there  seem'd  a  smart, 

A  countenance  forlorn. 
rh^j  were  one  fold,  all  in  one  plain, 

But  were  asunder  driv'n ; 
And  now  they  vent  their  grief  and  pain, 

And  mourn  from  morn  till  eve'n. 
Tho'  separated  by  a  fence, 

They  lov'd  their  likeness  still, 
They  told  their  love  by  instinct  sense, 

And  moirrn'd  their  broken  will. 
1  saw  the  sheep  would  often  try, 

To  push  the  fences  down, 
That  they  might  all  together  lie, 

And  all  their  sorrows  drown . 
But  shepherds,  constant  watching  there, 

Would  fright  them  soon  away  ; 
And  strong  their  fences  would  repair, 

Lest  they  should  go  astray. 
Another  cause  of  grief  I  sawj 

The  shepherds  disagreed ; 
Each  had  a  rule  and  sep'rate  law, 

His  flock  along  to  lead. 


230 

Tiic  shepherds  clamor' d — often  faugh U 

Alarm'd  their  flocks  so  tame, 
The  cause  of  this  I  serious  sought, 

And  found  it  to  their  shame. 

When  lambs  were  yean'd  inthis  one's  fold. 

He'd  sing  the  shepherds  lay, 
But  that  one  then  would  be  so  bold,     . 

He'd  steal  the  lambs  away. 

A  sharp  dispute  would  then  ensue, 

Sometimes  a  bloody  fight, 
The  strongest  would  the  theft  pursue, 

And  boast  his  conq'ring  might. 

This  one  proclaims  the  wicked  deed. 

And  shouts  aloud  his  joy, 
When 'he  beholds  his  brother  bleed, 

Or  can  his  peace  destroy. 
That  one,tho'.vanquishcd,  threats  his  foe, 

Returns  him  all  the  pain ; 
From  fold  to  fold  each  one  would  go, 

To  pilfer  o'er  the  plain.     . 
Each  shepherd  mark'd  his  tender  lambs, 

And  taught  them  what  to  do ; 
The  folds  were  known  by  diff'rent  names, 

And  sep'rate  pastures  knew. 
J  saw  some  pastures  eaten  bare, 

The  sheep  were  poor  and  lean; 


Briers  and  burrs  were  plenty  there. 

They  then  would  try  to  leave  their  bounds 

For  better  pastures  try. 
But  shepherds  guarding  well  their  grounds^ 

Would  chase  them  hack  to  die. 
Long  time  I  look.d — I  sought  to  find, 

If  I  could  learn  the  c  a 
Why  shepherds  did  such  burdens  bind, 

And  urge  such  rigid  laws.- 
I  understood  the  shepherds  were, 

Engag  d  for  wages  high, 
Theygain'd  their  bread  and  raiment  there, 

And  did  their  wants  supply. 

They'd  shear  their  flocks  &  keep  the  fleece, 

And  sell  it  out  for  gain, 
And  thus  their  store  they  did  increase — 

Grew  pompous,  proud  and  vain. 
No  wonder  then,  thought  I,  for  true, 

The  shepherds  were  so  mean, 
Why  the}'  should  keep  their  flocks  in  two, 

And  why  their  flocks  so  lean. 
For  o'er  the  plain  1  heard  a  sound, 

The  shepherds  were  amazM — 
A  gen'ral  clamor  went  around, 

A  nd  I  astonisl  i 


238 

Some  men  had  entered  on.  the  pl;<.,. 

Tlieir  words  around  me  run; 
They  sounded  loud  the  melting  strain : 

"  We've  come  to  make  you  one."  • 
These  men  a^pear^d  in  shepherd's  dress. 

They  bore  the  shepherd's  rod  ; 
They  wore  the  2-arb  of  righteousness, 

And  look'd  like  men  of  God. 

Some  had  a  torch  of  burning  flame, 

To  burn  each  fence  away, 
The  fire  confusM  and  put  to  shame, 

The  hirelings  all  the  day. 
Some  took  the  sword  and  soon  began 

To  make  the  hirelings  bleed — 
The  hirelings  musterM  all  their  clan, 

For  once  they  all  agreed ! 
They  chose  to  fight  against  a  few, 

Bat  soon  they  fled  away; 
They  were  unarrn'd  and  cowards  too, 

And  trembled  with  dismay. 
Those  valiant  men,  like  men  of  God, 

Triumphant  march  d  along; 
They  burnt  the  fences  far  abroad, 

Nor  fear'd  the  threading  throng. 
They  sounded  loud  the  message  sweet? 


235 

••That  cvVy  fold  should  quickly  nicety 
And  dwell  in  peace  and  love.1' 

The  sheep  from  different  folds  begun 

To  gather  round  the  place, 
Where  they  wepe  taught  to  be  but  one, 

And  feed  on  richer  grace. 

A  fold  soon  gatherM  and  was  large, 

At  first  the  sheep  were  bare ; 
Those  men,  as  shepherds,  took  the  charge, 

To  nurse  and  feed  them  there. 

The  shepherds  left  their  houses,  lands, 

And  all  on  earth  beside, 
To  tend. uv, on  this  flocks  demands, 

And  for  its  wrants  provide. 

They  led  the  sheep  thro'  frosts  and  snow, 

0\v  hill  and  dale  they  went, 
Refresh'd  them  where  sweet  waters  flow, 

And  thus  their  time  they  spent. 

Thece  men  were  often  hungry,  cold, 

Grew  weary,  poor  and  faint ; 
They  took  no  fleece  from  off  the  fold, 

Were  silent  in  complaint. 

This  fold  incre ased — spread  o'er  the  green, 
The  sheep  were  fat  and  strong ; 


234 

Then  I  beheld  another  scene, 
Of  something  cruel,  wrong. 

The  men  who  fed  them  shortly  pin'd, 

In  poverty  and  pain, 
They  saw  the  sheep  were  not  inclin'dy 

To  give  them  of  their  gain. 

The  faithful  shepherds  were  but  few, 

The  sheep  would  not  obey ; 
They  wanton'd  on  the  shepherd's  due, 

And  thus  they  went  astray. 

Ah !'  cruel  sheep,  responded  I, 

Ungrateful  and  unkind, 
To  see  your  worthy  shepherds  die, 

For  them  no  raiment  find. 

They  spent  their  time  and  money  too. 
To  save  you  from  your  grief, 

But  now  they  find  no  love  from  you, 
To  give  them  blest  relief. 

Now  give  your  shepherds  what  you  owe,. 

And  then  they'll  lead  you  on ; 
Qr  else  you'll  soon  return  to  woe, 

Be  destitute — forlorn. 


EPISODE, 

To  the  memory  of  Elder  JoscjiJl  JVcsmith  o/Va> 
LE  r  the  proud  muse  delight  herself  to  raise, 
The  names  of  heroes  to  immortal  pr 
Let  her  record  the  wonders  (hey  have  done, 
"What  feats  achieved  <fc  batih  won, 

An  humble  ,m use  shall  now  vibrate  the  lyre, 
My  bosom  swell,  and  all  my  theme  inspire 
To  tell  the  thousands — thousands  yet  unborn? 
The  heavenly  virtues  that  my  friend  adorn. 

My  God  conviuc'd  him  in  his  sportive  youth, 
The  ways  of  error,  and  the  force  of  truth, 
Andturn'dthe  current  of  his  mind  away 
From  all  the  sins  of  this  adulterous  day. 
He  cloth'd  him  meekly  with  his  mantling  love. 
And  touchM  his  lips  with   hadlow'd  lire  above; 
God  £aye  command   that  he  should  now  de- 
clare, 
Andfar  abroad  the  name  of  Jesus  bear: 
Jlis  mind  enraptur'd  with  celestial  views, 
With  meek  consent  the  heavenly  call  pui 
Apostle-like,  untaught  in  priestly  school-. 
Nor  fill/l  with  jargon,  known  in  priestly  rule- ; 
He  deals  the  word  direct,  by  Jesus  giv  o, 
And  noints  us  out  the  narrow  way  to  heav'n. 
His  mind  capacious — richly  stor'dwith  -» 


236 

Sublimely  spars  with  charming  eloquence. 
He  paints  creation  in  poetic  strain?, 
Describes  the  beauties  of  the  flow'ry  plains; 
And  tells  the  grandeur  of  the  rising  hills, 
The  copious  riveis  and  the  gliding  rills. 
Like  birds  of  lofty  -wing  in  airy  haste,  . 
Ascending  high  above  the  world's  broad  waste^ 
To  shun  a  storm  from  thund'ring  skies  below, 
And  seek  a  rest  that  none  but  they  can  know; 
So  he  with  rapt'rous  wing  yet  more  sublime, 
Devoutly  soars  above  our. stormy  clime, 
And  seems  to  travel  in  the  regions  where 
He  plucks,  and  wears  ambrosial  laurels  there  j 
In  strains  seraphic  he  his  message  tells, 
And  like  a  flood,  his  flowing  bosom  swells. 
He  seems  to  ope  the  golden  gates  of  bliss, 
To  shew  the  saints,  who  bask  in  endless  peace ; 
He  tells  the  glorirs  of  the  eternal  throne, 
in  transports  sweet,  and  language  all  his  own. 

Like  eagles  wing  their  far  etherial  flight, 
Above  the  meaner  birds  from  mortal  sight ; 
He  mounts  aloft  on  wings  sublimely  high, 
And  brings  glad  tidings  from  the  upper  sky. 

I  His  art  is  simple,  and  his  language  chaste, 
And  all  his  metaphors  seem  rightly  plac'd ; 
His  gestures  suited  to  the  theme  he  tells, 


l-'iora  reason  cool  to  burning:  rapture  swells; 
He  pours  the  torrent  of  his  soul  around, 
On  all  who  listen  in  amaze  profounoV 
Like  flowing  strca ms  increase  their  il  ow'ry  sides, 
And  form,  at  least,  extensive  sea-like  tides; 
So  have  his  flowing  accents  sweetly  rung, 
And  heav'nly  strains  increas'd  upon  his  tongue, 
He  seems  acquainted  with  the  human  mind, 
With  logic  and  philosophy  combin  d; 
He  shows  the  nature  of  immortal  laws, 
That  God's  the  author  of  effect  and  cause; 
Dead  matter  can't  produce  itself  and  live, 
In  thousand  forms  like  we  behold  it  thrive ; 
Nor  could  mere  chance  together  dumb  &  blind- 
Transform  her  image  into  Newton's  mind. 
And  as  we  see  all  matter  round  us  grow, 
In  bodies  move  and  in  the  waters  (low, 
As  suns  illume  and  globes  revolve  in  space, 
And  none  can  leave  their  orbit's  destin'd  place ; 
A  pow'r  must  form,  a  powlr  divine  control. 
The  myriad  worlds  that  in  wide  ether  roll; 
All  nature  speaks,  and  loud  declares  a  God, 
Who  form'd  and  rules  the  Universe  abroad. w 

In  him  our  God  has  humbled  human  pride.    M 
In  him,  the  christian  tempers  all  abide; 
i  And  like  resplendent  jew< 


233 

When  smooth1  J  and  polished  from  the  diamond 

mine;  ^     , 

The  things  of  earth,  he  would  esteem  as  dross, 
And  glory  only  in  a  Saviour's  cross. 

The  world's  deceit — her  clamors  on  his  name, 
Her  tongue  of  slander,  and  her  tongue  of  fame, 
Can  never  'luie  this  humble  man  of  prayer, 
To  taste  again  her  poisoned  pleasures  there; 
The  wealth  he  seeks  is  not  of  sordid  dust,    . 
Nor  gold  that  cankers,  nor  the  hoards  that  rust ; 
He's  plac'd  his  treasure  in  the  upper  skies — 
Eternal  life  is  Ms  immortal  prize. 
He  lives  by  faith,  by  faith  he  sees  theland, 
Where  faithful  saints  with    crowns  of  glory 

stand ; 
A  blissful  portion  he  enjoys  below, 
And  tastes  the  pleasures  sinners  never  know. 

He  preaches  freedom  in  the  Saviour's  name, 
To  cheerless  captives  sunk  in  lawless  shame ; 
He  opes  the  gospel  like  expanded  gates, 
Where  boundless  grace  for  starving  thousands 
m    waits — 

Declares  the  gospel  is  the  rule  of  life, 
0110  bonds  of  union  free  from  war  and  strife ; 
For  church  discipline,  'twas  by  Jesus  given. 
Tortilo  and  srcridp  thrbieft  born  sons  of  JtcaV-s-.' 


139- 

His  soul  abhors  tho  rage  for  party  nami1?. 
That  kindles  passion0-  into  fearful  (lames ; 
And  separates  the  fold  asunder  wide — 
That  makes  the  christians  in  their  forms  divide  ; 
He  loud  proclaims  that  christian  union  sweet, 
Where  all  distinctions  in  one  int'rest  meet; 
Where  useless  forms  and  names  are  done  away, 
And  saints  rejoice  and  all  together  pray. 

Go  on  my  brother — preach  the  word  of  God, 
May  Jesus  guard  you  in  the  heavenly  road  ; 
I'll  follow  on,  and  meet  you  in  the  land, 
Where  we'll  rejoice  in  one  celestial  band  , 

-v  \  v      • 

THE  DEVIL  ADVERTISED. 
A  BUSY  body  in  the  land, 

Goes  wand'ring  up  and  down ; 
The  schemy  scoundrel  long  has  plann'd, 

To  gain  a  great  renown. 
I  cannot  give  a  full  detail 

Of  features,  nor  Ins  size  ; 
But  I  am  told  he  has  a  tail, 

A  face  and  ears  and  eyes. 
His  mouth  they  say  is  monstrous  widfl* 

And  like  a  cat  his  claws ; 
A  human  voice  a  shaggy  hide, 

His  (<'(:+  like  Lion's  | 


240 

It  is  supposed  he  has  two  wings, 

And  like  an  ea^le  flies, 
O'er  all  the  world,  he  knows  all  things. 

And  wiser  than  the  wise. 
He  like  an  angel  oft  appears, 

And  with  a  lovely  face, 
Pretends  to  shed  a  flood  of  tears, 
.  And  mourns  our  wretched  race. 
He's  very  social  and  polite, 

Converses  free  and  loud  ; 
He's  busy  all  the  day  and  nisrbt, 

To  charm  and  lead  the  crowd. 
His  parentage  is  yet  unknown, 

And  none  can  tell  his  birth ; 
In  his  descent  he  was  alone, 

And  has  no  kin  on  earth. 
But  tho  he's  old,  hecs  very  gayy 

And  handsome,  tall  and  straight; 
He  courts  the  fair  without  dismay, 

On  them  he's  fond  to  wait. 
And  they  are  fond  tho'  strange  to  tellj 

That  he  should  join  their  train  ; 
And  none  can  please  them  half  so  well- 

Of  him  but  few  complain. 
He  visits  them  in  private  rooms. 
so  familiar  there 


241 

That  like  a  husband  he  presumes, 
To  fondle  with  the  fair. 

He  often  helns  them  when  they  dress, 
He  makes  their  corset  boards, 

He  pins  their  ruffles — gives  caress, 
Officious  aid  affords. 

When  ladies  gather  round  their  tea, 

In  fashionable  style ; 
He  visits  there  in  merry  dee, 

And  cheers  them  up  the  while. 

He's  foremost  therein  telling  news, 

He  tattles  all  he  knows ; 
And  deals  out  slander  and  abuse, 

Destruction  on  his  foes. 

He  tries  his  quests  to  entertain, 
And  tells  what  neighbors  do ; 

Of  them  he  always  will  complain, 
In  slanders  old  and  new. 

He  travels  tar  from  east  to  west, 

And  visits  high  and  low ; 
He  drives  from  thousands  all  their  rest, 

And  fills  their  hearts  with  woe. 

-He  boasts  his  courage  and  his  skilly 
In  battles,  blood  and  fight ; 
L 


on  hi- thousands  he  call 
And  put  hi?  foes  to  r!L 

He  love?  a  dram,  and  often  drinks 

A  drunkard's  double  share ; 
He  staggers,  swears  and  often  sinks. 

In  mud  and  scandal  there. 

Ah  1  then  he  raves  and  storms  along, 

And  threatens  all  around ; 
But  -oon  he  feels  amid  the  throng, 

His  head  upon  the  ground. 

He  is  a  hypocrite  I  say, 

for  1  can  well  declare, 
When  saints  collect  to  sine:  and  pray , 

I  have  beheld  him  there. 

lie  sometimes  groans  and  shouts  aloud, 

No  one  so  good  as  he ; 
But  qickly  when  he  leaves  the  cr 

He'll  wron?  and  slander  thee. 

He  often  fills  the  solemn  place, 
Where  preachers  ought  to  stand ; 

Presumes  to  publish  heavenly  gn  ■ 
To  sinners  o'er  the  land, 

-  a  Fatalist  you  know. 
His  doctrin 


Predestinates  a  parttowoeT 
And  some  to  realms  of  day. 

He  thus  deceives  the  heart  of  man. 

Persuades  him  all  is  well ; 
And  leads  him  in  this  wicked  plan. 

Along  the  road  to  hell. 

He  is  a  Lawyer — often  pleads, 

The  guilty  must  go  clear ; 
Disputes  and  suits,  and  quarrels  bi 

Without  remorse  or  fear. 

lie  seems  expert  in  all  the  arts, 
He  laughs  and  he  can  weep ;  . 

He's  always  arm'd  with  hidden  dart7. 
And  haunts  where  misers  sleep. 

He  is  a  liar  and  a  cheat, 

A  gambler  and  a  rake ; 
And  with  the  proud  he  has  a  seat, 

He  never  will  forsake. 

He  is  a  thiefn.ru}.  robber  too, 

He  robb'd  me  of  my  all, 
And  I  am  left  as  beggars  do, 

Upon  my  knees  to  fall. 

J  can't  describe  the  dress  he  v. 
changes  every  0 


£44 

"When  for  the  church,  in  black  prepares, 
Ami  ruffles  for  the  play. 

His  name  I  cannot  fully  tell, 

I've  heard  them  call  him  "Devil" ; 

"Old  Sam,'  "Old  Boy"  an  "Imp  of  hell," 
"The  source  and  root  of  evil." 

He  has  a  mask  upon  his  face, 
By  which  he's  better  known ; 

He  bears  the  letters  of  disgrace, 
For  blackest  crimes,  his  own. 

If  any  one  will  safely  bind, 

And  bring  him  to  the  squire ; 
\  thousand  dollars  he  shall  find, 

And  more  if  he  require. 
Confine  him  close  within  some  jail, 

Nor  let  him  loose  again ; 
Sweet  peace  shall  then  o'er  all  prevail. 

And  bliss  without  a  pain. 

Thoughts  ois*  the  39th  chapt.  of  Job, 

IN  wind  and  storm  the  dreadful   God  de= 
scends, 
And  speaks  to  Job,  while  Job  with  awe  attends ; 
His  son'rous  words,   like    ten-fold    thunders 
sound, 


245 

Shrill  thro1  the  air,  and  shake  the  smould'riin; 

Presumptuous  Job,  to  speak  against  thy  God, 
To  murmur  at  nay  sore  avenging  rod. 

Gird  up  thy  loins,  before  my  presence' stand, 
And  answer  if  thou  canst,  when  I  demand; 
Look  round  the  earth,  then  view  the   spacious 

sky, 
What  boundless  wonders  fill  the  roving  eye. 
No  chance  directed,  but  the  works  divine, 
That  forrnM  the  globe,  and  made  the  planeta 

shine; 
Thou  canst  not  know,  till  I  reveal  to  you, 
How  first  wide  nature's  fields  arose  to  view. 
Trace  up  effects,  search  out  the  latent  cause, 
The  First  is  found  by  universal  laws, 
This  is  the  source  whence  ali  creation  came, 
Jehovah  self-existent,  God  the  name, 

I  sooke,  chaotic  darkness  fled  away, 
And  light  effulgent,  formV,  the  coming  day; 
I  laid  creation's  first  foundation  stone, 
And  rearM  tbe  temple  by  my  strength  alone; 
I  roll'il  confusion,  and  disorder  far, 
An  I  hush'd  forever  the  chaotic  war. 
The  air  1  parted  from  the  solid  earth, 
And  'ire  and  water  form'd  the  living  birth  ; 
"With  compass  vast  I  scrib'd  an  ample  round, 


A 


240 

And  form-d  the  measure  of  the  rising  grou 

I  stretch-d  afar  the  Equinoxial  line, 

The  Orient  light  forever  there  to  shine; 

I  pois'd  the  earth  in  atmospheric  air, 

And  bade  it  roll  within  its  orbit  there. 

From  West  to  East  I  bade  it  fly  along, 

And  to  this  motion  day  and  night  belong; 

I  fix'd  its  axis  in  the  steady  poles — 

As  it  revolves  and  round  its  circuit  rolls, 

The  seasons  turn,  to  change  the  earth's  green 

robe, 
And  bear  their  balmy  sweets  around  the  globe  I 
I  furrow'd  deep,  and  cleft  its  ample  side, 
And  there  the  waters  roll  their  rapid  tide. 
I  rent  her  bowels — scoop-d  a  dreadful  steep. 
Where  scaly  monsters    swim  the   wond'rous 

deep ;' 
I  closM  the  dark  reces3  from  mortal  sight, 
And  hid  her  wonders  in  eternal  night ; 
The'  she  may  toss  her  waves  immensely  high, 
And  lash  the  summit  of  the  lofty  sky  ; 
The  furious  winds  may  on  her  hospm  blow, 
But  she  can  never  pass  her  bounds  below; 
Her  raging  billows  die  at  my  command , 
And  spend  their  fury  on  the  reeking  sand  ; 
Thus  far  thy  flowing  tide  may  come,  1 

-re  thy  proudest  a 


247 

1  now  demand  of  thee,  and  canst  thou  tell, 
Whocaus'd  the  day,  and  where  the  light  doth 

dwell  ? 
Who  gave  command  for  morning  light  to  spring, 
And  fly  abroad  on  universal  wing  1 
To  gild  the  horrors  of  the  western  skies, 
Thence  Ebon  darkness  from  her  chambers  flies. 
Where  stop  the  cheering  beams  of  rosy  light, 
That  rend  the  curtains  of  the  sable  nisht  ? 
Th'  adoring  savage  sees  the  blazing  flood, 
And  flies  the  vengeance  of  his  guilt  and  blood  ; 
Hast  thou  researched  the  bottom  of  the  main? 
Or  known  the  place  where  Leviathans  rei 
Did  thy  adventurous  foot  traverse  the  path, 
That  leads  to  all  her  dismal  gates  of  death! 
Canst  thou  declare  why  she  remains  so  low, 
While  thousand  rivers  in  her  bosom  flow? 
Is  it  her  centre  or  her  bed  that  sink  ? 
That  keeps  her  even  with  the  flowing  brinks? 
Canst  thou  declare  these  strange  phenomena, 
And  tell  where  all  her  rivers  flow  away  1 

The  human  heart  contains  the  crimson  flood 
Where  circulate  a  thousand  streams  of  blood  \ 
In  the  leftside  I  Dlac'd  the  ventricle, 
And  mark'd  the  route,  the  great  canal, 
Where  flows  the  blood  receiv'd  in  thousand 

tubes, 
Tc  all  extremes  the  current  thus  protrn 


248 

At  the  extremes  of  this  constructed  frame, 
I  plac'd  the  valves  to  play  their  constant  game 
The  art  ries  hence,  like  copious  rivers  flow, 
Receive  their  portion  from  the  distant  toe, 
And  oour  the  torrent  in  the  trembling  heart, 
The  living:  current  glides  thro'  ev'ry  part; 
The  heart  receives,  the  heart  conveys  away, 
The  thousand  streams  that  thro    the  system 

So  have  I  placed  in  ocean^s  secret  bed, 
A  thousand  channels  which  are  ever  fed, 
With  copious  torrents  from  the  mother  mainr 
Which  fill  forever  ev1ry  distant  vein. 
Those  secret  streams  convey  the  tide  away, 
Anil  burst  their  passage  into  open  day. 
This  is  the  source  whence  all  the  rivers  flow, 
Or  cooling  brooks  that  glide  the  earth  below; 
The  si  rings  replenish  from  the  distant  main, 
And  rinds  a  passage  and  returns  again! 

Hast  thou  beheld  the  horrors  of  the  gates? 
Where  ghastly  death  with  his   pale    trophies 

waits! 
Canst  thou  inform  where  his  dread  spoils  are 

laid, 
In  lands  Elysian?  Or  Tartarian  shade? 
Where  <:roan  the  wicked  who  despis'd  then 
God? 


249 

Where  stay  the  righteous,  in  what  blest  abode? 
Has  this  fell  monster  swept  them  ail  away, 
And  laid  them  level  in  a  tomb  of  clay? 
Have  kings  anil  beggars  here  together  met? 
Do  slaves  and  tyrants  with  each  other  set? 
Do  they  promiscuous  in  sad  silence  sleep, 
Where  none  rejoice  and  all  forget  to  ween? 
Do  they  pass  on  and  leave  their  first  abode?, 
And  rise  and  glow,  and  live  in  other  modes? 
And  transmutated  in  a  thousand  forms, 
Do  they  exist  in  fish,  or  beasts,  or  worms? 
The  sceptic  mind  would  feign  believe  it  true, 
But  truth  divine  I'll  now  reveal  to  you. 

Tho'  Death  may  conquer  in  a  thousand  fields, 
And  strip  the  soldier  of  his  boasted  shields ; 
Tho'  he  may  sweep  the  wide  extended  earth., 
Oft v'ry  grade  and  ev'ry  different  birth, 
And  sate  his  sable  mansions  with  the  slain, 
I'll  conquer  him  and  let  the  righteous  reign ! 
Poor  cowrard  man  too  oft  regrets  to  die, 
Unknown,  untaught  where  he's  destin'd  to  fly; 
Great  death  leads  forth  the  righteous  to  repose, 
Where  they  forget  this  warring  world  of  woes, 
They  seem  to  slumber  till  they  hear  the  sound  : 
"Arise  ye  nations  underneath  the  ground!*' 
"Tis  then  they'll  mount,  on  high  celestial  wing, 
L2 


A 


250 

And  say  <0 !  death  where  is  thy  boasted  sting?' 
Not  so  the  wicked — when  they  close  their  eyes. 
In  hopeless  sorrow,  and  dispairing  cries, 
Death's  gloomy  shade  redoubles  all  their  pains, 
Their  souls  are  anguish'd  where  grim  darkness 

reigns ; 
Their  conscious  guilt  awakes  their  troubled 

souls, 
And  points  them  where  their  fiercer  anguish 

rolls. 

Their  dreams  are  frightful  in  their  dark  abode, 
They  fear  the  stroke  of  some  avenging  rod  * 
And  when  they  hear  the   last-day    trumpet 

sound, 
They'll  burst  the  barriers  of  their  gloom  pro- 
found ; 
The  conscious  guilt  in  which  they  left  the  world, 
When  they  behold  the  Prince  of  grace  unfurl'd, 
Shall  fast  increase  in  that  terrific  hour, 
As  he  displays  his  justice  and  his  powrr. 

I'll  summon  death  from  his  triumphal  car, 
And  raise  his  conquer' d  millions  from  afar ; 
The  trembling  monster  shall  no  longer  boast, 
His  blood  and  carnage,  and  his  num'rous  host, 
I'll  blot  his  mem'ry  from  the  book  of  fame, 
To  cease  forever  in  eternal  sbame ; 
I  then  will  reign  thro'  all  the  realms  abroad- 
And  shining  millions  own  mc  for  their  God 


251 

Hast  thou  traversed  the  surface  of  the  globe, 
Or  seen  the  beauties  of  her  verdant  robe  ? 
Hast  thou  beheld  her  far  sequester  d  shade, 
Where  howling  horrors  and  thick  gloom  per* 

vade  ? 
Didst  thou  ascend  the  mountain-s  lofty  brow, 
To  view  the  landscape  interspersed  below? 
Who  form'd  the  hills,  or  hast  the  mountains 

drawn, 
And  stretch'd  the  margin  of  the  flow'ry  lawn? 
Who  rear'd  the  rocks,  projected  far  in  air? 
No  human  foot  can  ever  venture  there ! 
Hast  thou  beheld  the  wond'rous  scene  afar, 
From  east  to  west  and  to  the  polar  star? 
Canst  thou  declare  where  earths  far  distance 

ends? 
Or  how  her  circuit  to  the  centre  blends? 
Where  is  the  road,  point  out  the  wond'rous  way 
To  the  fair  chambers  of  effulgent  day? 
Where  are  the  floods  of  ever  flowing  light, 
That  blaze  resplendence  on  the  raptur'd  sight? 


Farewell  to  youth — an  allegory. 
FAREWELL  to  beauty, blooming  flow'rs, 

And  all  their  sweet  delight — 
To  pebb'ly  brooks  and  shady  bowT=. 
And  alltha*  charm  the  sigl 


A 


252 

Those  blooming  months  are  roll4d  away, 

W  hen  songs  attun'd  the  plain; 
Far  tied  the  sweet  perennial  day, 

'(  hat  sooth'd  the  rising  pain. 
Cold  winter  now  with  horrid  gloom, 

Comes  raving  through  the  air, 
And  strips  the  earth  of  all  her  bloomy 

And  leaves  it  sad  and  bare! 
The  rural  rustic  nightly  hears, 

The  iErial  storms  arise  ; 
Tumultuous  noise  invades  his  ears* 

And  rumbles  round  the  skies. 
The  forests  groan  in  silent  night, 

To  Warn  the  world  of  pain. 
The  skulking  beasts  in  wild  affright, 

fecud  fast  along  the  plain. 
How  fair  the  morning  of  my  day. 

When  ev'ry  cloud  withdrew; 
Enchanting  flow  rs  allurM  my  way, 

And  the  soft  zephyr  blew. 
The  landscape  open'd  far  and  wide. 

Where  ev'ry  beauty  grew, 
And  youthful  pleasure's  flowing  tide, 

Extended  in  my  view. 
Tho=e  pleasant  hour*  I  thought  would  stav^ 

The  flowers  forever  bloomy 


253 

T  little  thought  the  rising:  day, 
Would  close  in  sullen  gloom. 

But  O !  the  mid-day  sun  withdrew, 
The  darkling  clouds  came  on — 

The  stormy  winds  in  fury  blew, 
All  nature  looked  forlorn ' 

The  dreadful  storm  around  the  sky3 

In  burning  lightning  flew  ; 
The  bending  forests  gave  a  sigh, 

And  I  stood  trembling  too. 

Amid  the  gloom  I  heard  a  groan, 

It  hollow  whisp'ring  said  : 
uThe  pleasures  of  thy  youth  are  flown^ 

Thy  golden  dreams  are  fled." 

I  look'd  around  with  sad  surprise, 
And  saw  the  plain  was  bare ; 

The  flow'rs  had  faded  in  my  eyes, 
And  ev'ry  beauty  there. 

The  rose  had  withered  and  the  thorn. 

On  ev'ry  brier  grew ; 
I  felt  alarm  M  and  faint,  forlorn, 

When  far  my  comfort  flew. 

My  heart  waspain\l  and  full  of  woe= 
I  felt  no  true  delight ; 


254 

The  howling  winds  remain'd  to  blow. 

My  day  was  turn'd  to  night. 
Farewell  to  youth,  to  former  joys, 

Anchmy  companions  gay ; 
?Tis  withered  age  my  peace  destroy?, 

And  points  me  to  the  clay. 

i'O'i 

DAMON  AND  ELLEN. 

Two  neighboring,  youths,  raised  in  rural  life, 
became  imperceptibly  fond  of  each  other;  and 
when  grown  to  maturity,  they  cherished  a  con- 
jugal passion  for  each  other,  which  being  dis- 
covered, was  reciprocated  with  mutual  ardor. 
Their  engagements  were  made  and  kept  sacred. 
While  Damon  was  on  a  mercantile  adventure, 
Ellen,  with  her  parents,  removed  to  a  remote 
and  distant  section  of  the  West. 

Seven  tedious  years  rolled  away  before  Da- 
mon heard  where  his  Ellen  resided.  During 
this  time,  his  passion  for  her  had  not  subsided, 
nor  had  given  place  to  another.  He  immediate- 
ly repaired  to  where  the  sovereign  of  his  heart 
abode.     The  result  is  what  follows : 

SOME  tedious  years  had  roll;d  away, 
And  brought  the  long  expected  day, 

And  fortune  to  the  pair ; 
The  damsel  saw  young  Damon  wait. 
A  moment  at  the  op'ning  gate, 

And  ran  and  met  him  there. 


255 

Tier  form  renew'd  a  thousand  charms, 
She  fell  within  his  closing  arms, 

And  heard  him  thus  address : 
i:0\  heav'n  be  thank'd,  how  kind  to  me, 
The  angel  of  my  soul  I  see, 

And  feel  the  rapture!  bliss." 
"Thou  art  the  prize  I  long  have  sought, 
1  warmly  lovM  in  ev'ry  thought, 

And  long'd  to  own  thee  mine ;" 
She  softly  saidumy  love  is  true, 
DetachVl  from  all,  and  kept  for  you, 

My  heart  is  warm  as  thine. *' 
Few  days  were  pass'd — the  promise  made, 
On  which  their  union  should  be  laid, 

And  free  consent  was  giv'n ; 
The  house  was  cheerful,  all  was  gay, 
The  lovers  nam'd  the  wedding  day, 

The  day  of  earthly  heav  n. 
Now  Damon  thought  his  bliss  complete, 
Nor  knew  how  nigh  his  dread  defeat, 

Nor  what  would  be  his  doom  ; 
The  night  before  the  wedding  came, 
cThe  bride  is  sick,'  they  loud  proclaim, 

And  sad  was  all  the  room ! ! 

The  morning  light  again  appeared, 
And  lamentations  then  were  beard* 
For  Ellen  just  had  died ! 


JL5* 

O !  what  a  scene  we  now  behold, 

The  damsel  lies  an  image  cold, 

And  Damon's  lost  his  bride. 

In  afternoon  as  fashions  were, 
Young  Damon  came  to  wed  the  fair? 

But  O !  his  sad  surprise ; 
The  doleful  tidings  hail  his  ears, 
And  burst  the  torrents  of  his  tears, 

From  both  his  streaming  eyes. 

;0!  dreadful  change,'  he  loudly  cried, 
'Stern  death  has  torn  from  me  my  bride* 

And  left  me  to  despair;' 
Long  time  he  told  his  piteous  grief, 
And  swoon'd  away  without  relief, 

No  longer  could  he  bear. 

The  coming  day  with  solemn  step, 
He  saw  the  place,  he  loudly  wept, 

Where  Ellen  now  remains; 
He  oft  exclaimed,  lO  could  I  die, 
Beneath  cold  clods  with  Ellen  lie, 

With  her  be  freed  from  pains.' 

*I  will  renounce  the  world,1  he  said, 
-And  seek  a  far  sequesterM  shade, 
And  pour  my  sorrows  there ; 


201 

Bosirle  some  lonesome,  trickling  stream, 
Where  fairies  haunt,  and  ;>oets  dream, 
Let  me  ray  burden  bear.' 

He  soon  withdrew — I  heard  no  more, 
I  cannot  tell  how  long  he  bore, 

The  grief  of  Ellen's  fate; 
Tradition  says,  he  sure  was  found, 
A  lifeless  corpse,  on  distant  ground, 

Nor  can  I  more  relate. 

Let  tender  hearts  of  love  beware, 
Nor  covet  more  than  they  canbear^ 

Lest  they  should  fall  a  prey  ; 
Ah !  never  think  the  prize  is  won, 
Till  the  whole  race  is  fully  run, 

And  closM  the  nuptial  day. 

ON  SOLITUDE. 
YE  silent  shades  I  now  have  found  ye, 

Conceal  me  from  the  multitude  ; 
Enclose  your  leafy  wreaths  around  me, 

Nor  let  a  vagrant  foot  intrude; 
Here  let  me  drink  your  cooling  fountains, 

And  hear  sweet  birds  attune  their  lays,. 
Alonr  the  dells  and  rising  mountains, 

O !  let  me  hear  what  wisdom  says. 


258 

-Tishcre  I  long  have  wished  to  wa; nd 

Far  from  the  noisy  scenes  of  life  ; 
O !  give  me  now  some  time  to  ponder, 

And  live  secluded  from  all  strife; 
O  let  me  build  my  cottage  lowly, 

And  spend  my  life's  short  remnant  here^ 
And  as  I  walk  the  green  moss  slowly, 

I'll  wipe  away  the  world's  cold  tear. 
Let  others  boast  their  carnal  pleasure, 

And  feast  on  what  the  world  contains. 
I'll  envy  not  their  golden  treasure, 

Nor  all  the  spoils  of  conquer'd  plains; 
Content  with  charms  of  nature's  glory, 

I'll  seek  no  more  of  human  pride, 
Nor  longer  hear  the  fatal  story, 

Of  those  who  swim  her  silv'ry  tide. 

The  boasted  soldier,  long  victorious, 
All  laurell'd  o'er  with  rising  fame, 

Must  soon  beconquer'd — fall  inglorious, 
And  hear  no  more  his  sounding  name ; 

The  sreorgous  monarch s — pride  of  nations, 
The  lords  of  all  the  earth  below; 

0  see  them  leave  their  pompous  stations, 
And  down  to  dust  and  silence  go. 

1  see  the  forest  leaves  are  faded, 

And  all  the  flow'ry  plains  decay, 


2ge,  by  foul  diseases  aided, 
Turn  pale  and  wither  into  clay  $ 

My  moments  like  an  arrow  flying, 
Convey  me  swiftly  to  the  ground, 

Soon  my  friends  may  «ee  me  dying, 
And  shed  their  needless  tears  around. 

The  stormy  winds  around  me  roaring, 

Now  strip  the  green  leaf  foilage  bare, 
Here  as  I  sit  this  life  deploring, 

I  see  death's  image  travel  there ; 
What  sweets,  I  ask,  can  earth  afford  me?- 

In  all  her  pomp  and  airy  show  ! 
When  crippled  age  with  sorrows  load  me, 

When  death  shall  strike  his  fatal  blow.- 
Here  in  the  mood  of  gloomy  sadness, 

O  let  me  think  of  future  time ; 
Herelet  me  rise  in  silent  gladness. 

While  I  survey  your  heavenly  -lime; 
There  cease  those  sorrows,  tears  and  signing^ 

That  fill  my  heart  with  bursting  jrrief, 
There  sound  those  songs  of  christians  vying. 

Who  find  salvation  and  relief. 

\I/M/ 

MORTALITY. 
O!  MOURNFUL  child  of  mortal  birth, 
Whence  hast  thou  hither  ca 


260 

Thou  hast  descended  from  the  earth. 

Corruption  is  thy  name. 
The  gloom  that  hangs  upon  thy  brow, 

The  tears  that  wet  thine  eyes, 
Proclaim  thy  sorrows  here  below, 

And  tell  thy  inward  sighs. 
I've  seen  the  rose  in  beauty  shine, 

Its  leaves  were  green  and  gay — 
A  thousand  tints  together  join, 

To  deck  the  vernal  day. 
But  lo!  I  shortly  looked  again, 

Alas!  the  bloom  had  fled  ; 
Nor  did  it  stay  in  all  the  plain, 

So  far  its  glory  sped. 
So  rising  youth  may  bloom  to-day, 

But  soon  the  bloom  shall  fade, 
Hach  beauty  quickly  pass  away, 

In  mouldering  urns  be  laid. 
The  grove  produced  a  stately  tree, 

Its  arms  extended  wide; 
The  trunk  was  strong  as  oaks  could  be. 

An  1  long  the  storms  defied. 
But  I  returned  and  looked  around, 

Its  umbrage  died  away, 
The  wither'd  leaves  upon  the  ground* 

Proclaimed  a  sad  decay. 


2GI 

So  man  I've  seen  display  his  pride , 
His  grandeur,  pompand    ow'r; 

But  -;non  he  withered  mourn'd  and  died, 
Amid  his  blooming  hour. 

ON  MY  OLD  PEN. 
GO  you  scrub  and  rant  no  more, 
Rest  awhile  and  siee;>  and  snore; 
£nd  your  labors  and  your  motion, 
Lest  you  sink  in  your  blnck  ocean. 

Toil  has  made  you  rough  and  plain. 

Neighbors  say  you  -:ive  them  pain, 
Some  declare  you  touch  and  rub  them, 
Rurfian-like  would  wound  and  drub  them. 

Once  your  bill  was  ton   h  and  long, 
Dabbled  much  in  prose  and  som;, 
Harsh  has  been  your  broken  measure, 
Worth  few  thanks  and  less  it  tre  tsure. 

Raging  like  the  storm  that  blows — 
Murmuring  at  the  faull 

Making  loud  and  dreadful  ciattr  r, 
'Bout  a  small  and  trifling  matter. 

Need  you  care  how  others  -in? 

How  they  end,  or  how  begin  ? 
Priests  you  say,  the  church  oppresses^ 
Need  you  feel  for  her  distresses  ? 

No,  my  sir,  were  you  to  try, 
Till  you'd  Famish,  ?t*irve  and  die — ■ 
Could  you  roar  like  Vulcan's  thunders, 
Still  they'd  hold  their  creeds  and  blunder?, 


,  as  you  do  in  yei 
Makes  your  case  with  theai  the  v 
Tears  provoke  them  up  to  ma 
Scorning  at  your  gloom  and  sadness. 

Tear  the  mountains  all  away, 
Plant  them  in  the  roaring  sea  ; 

Then  you  may  create  the  creature, 

Form  anew  i  lure. 

But  alas!  you  never  can, 
Turn  the  wayward  course  of  man. 
Give  yourself  no  further  trouble, 
Lest  you  make  your  sorrows  double. 

Let  creed  makers  take  their  way, 
Like  the  gnats  that  swarm  and  play. 
Let  them  push  their  Anti  courses, 
Death  will  end  their  feuds  and  forces. 

This  address'd,  the  feather  said  : 
Thousands  wish  me  dumb  and  d 
But  their  threats  and  constant  clamors, 
Still  increase  my  toils  and  stammer?. 

Now  1  will  lay  down  awhile. 
Cease  my  travel  and  my  toil, 
If  1  sleep  1  will  be  dreaming, 

Crazy  brains  will  still  be  teeming 

Rest  is  not  design'd  for  me, 
Sleep  or  wake.  I  yet  must  be 
Thinking,  when  my  slumber  sender 

i 


-A 


INDEX 

TO  THE  POE3IS. 

On  my  new  pen        ... 

An  Elegy  on  R.  Haggard 

On  winter  « 

The  Rural  Christian 

Retirement 

Polar  Star 

The  Rose 

A  Dirge 

A  Thought  on  war 

The  Vernal  Season 

An  Evening  thought 

Thoughts  on  Retirement 

tU  Apostrophe  to  the  Evening  Star   * 

The  Wonders  of  Creation 

fc  prayer  in  trouble 

3de  on  the  Primeval  ages 

The  allurements  of  the  world  forsaken 

}de  to  Spring 

Vn  Apostrophe  to  the  Moon 

The  world  turned  Peacock 

Sigotry  reproved 

Vomau 


125 

128 

130 

132 

133 

138 

139 

141 

143 

146 

149 

150 

151 

15:2 

155 

156 

158 

160 

l«l 
163 

166 


2t>* 


An  Elegy  on  Mrs.  Diana  Gowdy        ,         170 

Description  of  Night             -  -             173 

A  reflection  on  reading  History  -         176 

An  Elegy  on  Mrs.  Nesmith        -  -          177 

Old   \ge            -                -  -             181 

A  dream,  such  as  Poets  feign  -             182 

On  Thought        -                -  187 

A  word  to  the  Fair                -  -            189 

Dialogue            -                -  191 

Apostrophe  to  Gen.  Braddock  •           195 

Man — a  complicated  animal  -             199 

An  address  to  the  American  Fair  -         215  j 

A  Vision            -                -  -    '   2271 

Episode                -                -  235  j 

Devil  advertised                 -  -           .2391 
Thoughts  on  the  39th  Chapt.  of  Job      -      244  } 

Farewell  to  youth — an  Allegory  -      251 

Damon  and  Ellen                -  -          254  ] 

On  Solitude            -            -            -  257  j 

Mortality                                -  -           2591 

On  my  Old  Pen                -               -  261  f 


[NOTE. — In  the  preceding  pages  a  few  un= 
important  errors  escaped  the  press,  mostly  typo-j 
graphical,  winch  the  reader  will  readily  correcd 
without  special  reference.] 


■ 


